


Battle for Neverland

by madmongoose5876



Category: Peter Pan & The Pirates, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12655464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madmongoose5876/pseuds/madmongoose5876
Summary: A modern woman finds herself in Neverland at the same time that an evil force threatens it.





	1. Chapter 1

The Captain was tired. Strong limbs felt as if they were moving against a current, slave to the rough waters of the very hurricane that had doomed him to this island. Why did he feel so weak? So...

Old.

His head throbbed when he heard the crow. That insufferable crow... Never had anything grated his nerves like that horrendous sound.

"You aren't even putting up a fight today, old man!"

Except for the urchin that horrendous sound came from.

Captain Hook strained to shake the fog in his mind, "You'll not be wanting for a fight when I'm done with you, brat!" Despite the clear anger, he could hear the fatigue in his own voice, and he hated it.

Peter Pan cackled, kicking over a bucket of soap water set out on the deck before flying several circles around the Captain, dodging the blows of his sword with ease and swooped back across the deck. Hook snarled, dragging himself toward the gloating boy. He caught his reflection from the corner of his eye, and his stomach dropped. His skin sagged from startlingly gaunt features. Dark bags drooped beneath his tired eyes, and extra skin hung from a thin neck. How long had he been like this?

"Feeling a little inadequate, Captain?!" The boy was directly behind him, "Understandable when you have to compete with me!"

His frustration redirected at Peter, he hacked wildly, muscles straining to lift his heavy sword. This couldn't be happening. Had senescence crept upon him so suddenly?

To further drive home his helplessness, Peter hovered well within a sword's reach of the Captain, easily evading his pitiful attacks.

Peter made a show of yawning loudly, "I'm bored, Codfish...I think this game is over."

Hook was barley able to get his bearings before Peter had kicked him in the back of the head, sending him toppling off the plank that he had somehow suddenly been standing on. Absolute terror overtook him as he careened head first toward an open set of jaws, and he heard Pan's crow before the tearing of flesh and bone.

Captain Hook's heart pounded as he jolted awake. It took him a moment to realize he had been dreaming. His breath heaved as he tried to calm himself, at the same time noticing that he and his sheets were covered in a layer of sweat. Heart still hammering, he reached up to feel that his face was not the frail, thin one he had seen in his dream. He held his remaining hand in front of his face, relieved that it as well was still healthy and strong.

Relief didn't last long as another crow rang from outside his cabin. Captain Hook groaned, "Peter Pan…" he spat, disgusted by the taste the boy's name left in his mouth. He sprang from the silken sheets of his bed and put on his many layers of clothing at an impossible speed, hastily splashing water onto his face from the washbowl on the mahogany table set across from the foot of his bed. He stormed out of his cabin, gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white beneath his glove.

"Ready Long Tom, you dogs! And blast that accursed boy to kingdom come!"

The crew of the Jolly Roger bounded across the deck, not daring to hesitate at their Captain's orders.

"I'm not exactly sure where kingdom come is," Peter Pan laughed, hovering just a touch out of Hook's reach, "but it'll take more than the likes of you to blast me there, Captain Kipper!"

"Gall and brimstone!" Hook clawed at him angrily, "Your day will come soon, Pan! By Queen Anne's Revenge, I swear it will!"

Peter Pan chuckled playfully, taking a reclining position in the air, "You shouldn't swear to promises you can't keep, Admiral Anchovy. Not very gentlemanly of you!"

"Perhaps you'd like a pirate rather than a gentleman, you puerile little urchin! FIRE!"

Billy Jukes smirked, lighting Long Tom's fuse and the cannon fired, just barely missing Pan's head as he ducked at the last second.

"Reload, Mr. Jukes, and SHOOT ME THAT WRETCHED WHELP!"

"There 'e goes, Jukes!" Mason bellowed, pushing Long Tom around with little effort. He grabbed the torch from the young gunner before he could protest and lit the fuse.

"NO, Alf Mason!" Jukes cried, "It's aimed right at—"

Splinters of wood darted over the ship as the mast crashed to the deck, crushing several barrels as it landed.

"Have fun cleaning that up, Codfish!" Peter laughed as he flew toward shore and out of sight.

Hook snarled, burying his sword furiously in the fallen mainmast then glancing over to his crew, who were staring dumbfounded at Peter's shrinking form, "Stop yer gaping, you miserable mullie-morts! Fix that mast before I plunge this into your gizzards!" he flashed his hook toward them, and his men scattered, knowing better than to upset the captain when he was in such a foul mood.

"Aye, Pan," Hook hissed, plucking his sword from the mast as if it were nothing more than a flower petal, "it matters not how many times you escape me. It will make it all the sweeter when I finally rend ye in two."

"Ha ha haa! Did you see the look on their faces, Tink?" Peter Pan darted in and out of the narrow spaces between the trees of the thick Neverforest, "I thought Hook was gonna explode! His face turned three shades of purple when that mast fell!"

"Sure, Peter," Tinkerbell yawned, lagging behind him a bit, "I just want to get back home and go to bed."

"Go to bed?! But, Tink, we're just getting started! I've got so many more pranks to pull on ol' Codfish today, and I need you for all of them!"

"Tin tops and copper bottoms, Peter! First, we almost get gobbled up by O'Look, then we almost get trampled by Never-Beasts... We've been up all night! Don't you think knocking down the mast is enough for one day?!"

Peter laughed as if what Tink had just said was the most absurd thing he had ever heard, "Of course not, Tink! You know we can't let Codfish go the whole rest of the day without a few more inconveniences!" Peter sped up, quickly disappearing into the trees, "Now let's go! We don't have much time!"

"Peter!" Tink sighed, "…oh! That boy will be my undoing!"

By noon, the Jolly Roger's mast was almost completely repaired, mostly due to Hook's threat of sixty lashes to anyone caught lollygagging. Hook now patrolled the deck, a predatory glint in his forget-me-not eyes.  
His rage at the boy reignited the frustration at the dream-Pan from that morning, and in turn stoked the anger at the real Pan even further. The boy would never see the day that Hook was too run down to put up a proper fight. One of them would die first.

"Robert Mullins!" he called up to the newly erected crow's nest, "Any sign of those air-born blighters?"  
"None yet, Cap'n!" Mullins answered, "That island's been as dead as the River Styx! Suspicious, I'd say!"

"Let the brat plot his plots..." the Captain growled with a glower, "One of them is bound to land him belly-side down on my hook."

"Peter, this is ridiculous!" Tink complained through a yawn, "I do not want to do this!"

"Oh, come on, Tink! It'll be easy!" Peter handed her a tiny blue sack only about the size of a ping-pong ball, "All you have to do is drop these into Hook's supper! Just a few of these will make even the most appetizing food taste like pond scum."

"That isn't nice, Peter Pan!"

Peter turned with a frown toward Wendy, who now stood at the entrance to the chute that led outside, "Not nice at all!"

"Oh come on, Wendy," Peter replied cheerfully, "since when was I ever nice to Hook?"

"Those could make Captain Hook sick!" she said, hands on her hips, "Then he wouldn't feel like fighting with you anymore."

"Oh, they won't make him sick! At least, not for any longer than a few hours..." Peter chuckled, "Besides, a little stomach ache never hurt anybody that bad."

"Well you had best be careful. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to Tink… or to Hook, for that matter."

"Hook?!" Peter chuckled, "Why should I care what happens to Hook?!"

"Oh, admit it, Peter. You don't really want anything that bad to happen to him. Then who would you fight?"

"That's true," he said thoughtfully, "If I'm going to kill Hook, there are much more fun ways to do it than by poisoning him."

Wendy sighed, rolling her eyes, but she decided against pressing the matter further.

"Besides," Peter explained plucking one of the tiny green balls from Tink's pouch, "these aren't poisonous; it's only filled with Neverswamp water."

Tink sighed, "If I do this, can I please go to bed?"

"Of course, Tink," Peter said apathetically.

"Fine, then. I'm going," Tink said quickly as she tied the bag shut and flew hastily from the Underground House.

Tinkerbell peeked from over the side of the Jolly Roger to the scattering of pirates on board. Mullins and Mason were reclined in coils of rope, Billy Jukes lied fast asleep on his stomach atop Long Tom, and Starkey sat at the other end of the ship, lazily picking at his fingernails with the tip of his rapier.

"Alright," she yawned, "now to get this over with so I can get some sleep."

She took one last glance across the deck, then darted through the rigging and down to the hatch that led below, peeking through a crack between the planks of wood. Cookson's voice echoed through the hall beneath her as Tink spotted him carrying a large bowl of scraps up the stairs from the galley. She quickly darted behind a barrel just as the old Greek sea chef hobbled out the door singing something badly at the top of his lungs, Tink couldn't tell exactly what. As soon as she was sure he was far enough away, she fluttered below decks and into the galley.

She began rummaging through the numerous pots and pans strewn across the counter, first coming to a large pot filled to the brim with something viscous and green. The thick film that had formed on the top made it look very much like the scales of the Croc. Tink took a great whiff of the substance and retched.

"Ugh! That's definitely the crew's food. How anyone can stomach this filth every day is beyond me!"

Tink quickly placed the lid back over the offending contents and continued exploring the other pots and pans, coming across several other undesirable dishes, until she came upon another pot of soup. This soup was a creamy, almost white color, and its smell was relatively tolerable compared to the other dishes.

"This has to be Hook's supper; it at least bears a resemblance to food."

But before Tink could finish the job, she heard the creaking of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and Cookson's off-key singing.

She yelped and ducked into a large, empty cabinet that sat on the floor next to the counter, "I'll never get out of here now!"

She sat for a moment, her head resting in the palms of her hands, "Great… how will I—OH!" she sat up with a start and plunged her hand into the bag she carried at her side, a puff of glittery powder floating from the brim, and retrieved a handful of the shimmering particles, "I almost forgot about the special dust I got at Small Monday Island yesterday!"

She tossed the purple and blue dust in front of her, and it sparkled in the dark cabinet, then glistened white and grew into a small, round opening in thin air just big enough for her to fit into. Daylight shone in from the other side.

"Peter will have to come up with some other prank," Tink mumbled, "I'm going home and getting some rest."


	2. Chapter 2

Tink stumbled a bit as she emerged from the other side of the portal, "Phew!! Peter, I told you this wasn't a good i-"

She stopped in mid sentence when she realized she wasn't in the Underground House. Tink was familiar with every inch of the Never-Forest, but nothing in her direct line of vision outside the hollow tree she was now standing in was at all recognizable.

"Wh-! What kind of cheap dust is this?!!" she yanked the sack from her belt, scrunching her nose with a glare, "What good is it if it just takes me to wherever it happens to fancy?!"

She crossed her arms with a stomp, fuming for a moment, then sighed, "Well… at least I won't have to listen to that horrible singing anymore," she said fluttering from the portal, and onto a nearby tree branch, "so much for my nap, though..."

She examined her surroundings from her new position. Tall maples and evergreens shaded the fern-covered forest floor, and a recently fallen oak rested across a patch of saplings to her left, the small trees straining to hold the large trunk. To a human, the rainbow of flowers scattered along the forest floor and the sunbeams shining through the brances might have seemed beautiful, but to a fairy, it was nothing to be awed over. Not when there was Neverland to compare it to.

That's when she noticed a faint buzzing that quickly grew louder, and she stumbled backward, landing solidly on her backside as a large, fuzzy bee landed on the bark surrounding the hollowed out hole. Its wings buzzed in short bursts as it seemed to regard Tink with interest. Tink slowly gazed toward the top of her head at the small flower she wore as a hat.

“Nooo...n-n-n-n-n!” she grabbed the petals and pulled it down further over her head, “This isn't your flower! It's mine!” She hovered backward as the curious insect pawed at her, before finally flying up and over it. “Phew!” she turned with a sigh of relief until she realized that an entire swarm was patrolling the area and only feet above her hung a massive hive.

“Eep!” She dodged two that went for her as soon as they noticed her, and she buzzed away quickly. It was a good thing bees were such awkward, slow fliers.

“Well I'm not getting back in there anytime soon.” She made some significant distance from the hive before finally landing on a branch to scan the area.

Ferns, pine cones, poison ivy... “Ooo!” she peered closer to a few trees over at the base of a sapling where a lush patch of silver sage covered the forest floor. After making sure the coast was clear of any more flying creatures that might take an interest in her, she fluttered down from her perch.

She ran her fingers over the silky leaves and sat before pausing, “...I probably shouldn't...” But the woolly leaves were so soft against her skin, and the thought of such a comfortable sleep made her yawn. “Well...if I can't get back to the Underground House, I might as well just snooze for a bit here,” she nestled comfortably into the soft leaves with another yawn, “The portal will be just where I left it when I get back.”

~*~*~*~

"En garde, fiend!!"

Peter slashed at Nibs with his wooden sword, barely missing the Lost Boy's head.

Wendy caught herself staring at the fireplace, and quickly looked up to where the Lost Boys were squabbling, "Tink's been gone for a very long time, Peter," she reminded him, breaking the thread from one of Michael's socks she had just finished mending.

Peter turned to her, parrying an attack from Slightly in the same motion, "Tink... Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her since this morning. Where has she gone to, anyway?"

Wendy rolled her eyes with a deep sigh, "She went to help you pull your prank, Peter!"

"Oh! That's right!!” Peter side-stepped a charging Curly, and the boy landed face first on the dusty floor. "She's probably just making sure Hook's soup is extra disgusting."

"I slightly doubt that, Peter," Slightly spoke up as he darted at him again with his wooden sword, "Tink was more than slightly sleepy. She really wanted to get it over with and get to bed."

"Oh, she'll be fine!" Peter insisted, casually knocking Slightly over after dodging his attack, "She can fly, and the pirates can't. What could possibly happen?!"

~*~*~*~*~

Faint voices interrupted the tranquil sounds of the forest, and Tink was slowly pulled from what had probably been the most sound three hours of sleep she had gotten in a good while. She stretched with a contented sigh before registering that there were others nearby.

Whoever these creatures were had no problem with the whole forest knowing they were there. She shook her head; definitely humans...

Tink flitted a few yards further to a dogwood that lined the edge of a small clearing, where five humans, adults, two males and three females, sat around the beginnings of a small bonfire, one of the boys having a rough go of lighting the tinder.

“Sheezus, Ethan! You're gonna bust a vessel if you keep doin' that!”

This Ethan looked at the girl who had said that from over...some sort of manuscript it seemed, making a show of scraping the flint comically fast.

“Ethan! Stop being an effing goober, and get that fire lit!” another girl, who was unpacking a long, cylindrical bag of poles and what looked to be brightly colored canvas.

“And Susannah! Get off your butt and help!”

The blond girl with the “manuscript” rolled her eyes, reaching for a knapsack near her feet and beginning to unpack half-hazardly as she continued her reading.

“Come on, Lindsay...” the other boy pleaded, “we can pitch the tent later. The priority right now should be dinner.”

The blond scoffed, “Yeah, since SOME-body didn't wanna stop and get somethin' on the way...”

Lindsay squinted with a huff, and dropped the bag of sticks, “Fine! You guys managed to get the food, right?”

Another two girls, loaded with about as many bags as they could possibly carry, made their way into the clearing.

“Emma?!”

“Yeah! Got it! Got it!” one in a knit hat raised three small, white sacks.

“Guess it's PB and J tonight...” said the last one, who had a strange, blond streak in her otherwise mousy hair. She smirked toward Ethan.

“Almost got it, Riley!” exclaimed Ethan, filing away at the flint, no sparks to be seen.

“Ethan...” the other boy placed a hand dramatically on Ethan's shoulder with a whisper, “It's time to stop.”

The boy sighed, drooping his head, “Another day, perhaps...”

Emma waved two jars in his direction, tossing one to Riley, and they all gathered around to make their sandwiches.

Humans, Tink laughed to herself, hopeless as always.

Once they had settled in with their meals, their conversation continued.

“Jared Leto's hot,” the blond lifted her strange manuscript directly to her face.

“Ew! He's a douche, Susannah...” Lindsay wrinkled her nose before taking a bite from her sandwich.

“Yeah, but he's still hot,” she finally looked up from her reading, “I met 'im back in March, ya know! Right at the end of my internship; they paid for the trip and everything. Didn't get to interview him myself, but...”

“That's still pretty impressive,” Grant, the other boy, replied, “All I did for my internship was take pictures of babies and old people. I never realized how similar they were til then...”

“Have to change any diapers?” Riley asked, looking up from a small book she seemed to have been writing in.

Grant shook his head, “It was a close call a couple of times, but no. At least my work there got me a job, though.”

“Oh! Ya'll heard about Lindsay's new job, right?” asked Susannah with a grin, finally closing whatever it was she had been reading.

“Oh, yeah!” Emma, spoke up, “Where'd you say it was at?”

“Pathway Center, a psychiatrist office in Berkeley Lake,” Lindsay straightened up in her chair, “I didn't have much competition. My mom's office works with the company a lot. She put in a good word.”

“Wish I had those kinds of connections,” Emma said with wide eyes, “I think I'll be stuck in insurance my whole life.”

Lindsay shrugged, “It's all about who you know.”

Tink propped her head up with her hand, stifling a yawn with the other. Tin spoons and tonics, human's were boring!

“So, Riley...”

The girl almost jumped as Susannah addressed her.

“What'chu up to these days? You always had a lotta' talent in school.”

“Eh...” Riley closed her book, placing it back in her lap, “Nothing much, I...I'm actually looking for something else right now.”

The answer apparently wasn't enough for Lindsay, “Yeah, but what are you doing now?”

Riley fidgeted a bit, “I, um...I work in a warehouse.”

“Ah,” her tone was as short as her reply.

The others nodded with no commentary, and Riley's eyes shifted between them expecting someone to say something before continuing.

“It's, uh...ya know, a lot of walking and lifting,” she picked at a frayed tab on her book, “It's good exercise, but it's...pretty soul crushing...”

A few nods, and a couple “yeah's” preceded a few seconds of silence, which Susannah attempted to end.

“Sooo any prospects, then?”  
Tink stumbled a bit as she emerged from the other side of the portal, "Phew!! Peter, I told you this wasn't a good i-"

She stopped in mid sentence when she realized she wasn't in the Underground House. Tink was familiar with every inch of the Never-Forest, but nothing in her direct line of vision outside the hollow tree she was now standing in was at all recognizable.

"Wh-! What kind of cheap dust is this?!!" she yanked the sack from her belt, scrunching her nose with a glare, "What good is it if it just takes me to wherever it happens to fancy?!"

She crossed her arms with a stomp, fuming for a moment, then sighed, "Well… at least I won't have to listen to that horrible singing anymore," she said fluttering from the portal, and onto a nearby tree branch, "so much for my nap, though..."

She examined her surroundings from her new position. Tall maples and evergreens shaded the fern-covered forest floor, and a recently fallen oak rested across a patch of saplings to her left, the small trees straining to hold the large trunk. To a human, the rainbow of flowers scattered along the forest floor and the sunbeams shining through the brances might have seemed beautiful, but to a fairy, it was nothing to be awed over. Not when there was Neverland to compare it to.

That's when she noticed a faint buzzing that quickly grew louder, and she stumbled backward, landing solidly on her backside as a large, fuzzy bee landed on the bark surrounding the hollowed out hole. Its wings buzzed in short bursts as it seemed to regard Tink with interest. Tink slowly gazed toward the top of her head at the small flower she wore as a hat.

“Nooo...n-n-n-n-n!” she grabbed the petals and pulled it down further over her head, “This isn't your flower! It's mine!” She hovered backward as the curious insect pawed at her, before finally flying up and over it. “Phew!” she turned with a sigh of relief until she realized that an entire swarm was patrolling the area and only feet above her hung a massive hive.

“Eep!” She dodged two that went for her as soon as they noticed her, and she buzzed away quickly. It was a good thing bees were such awkward, slow fliers.

“Well I'm not getting back in there anytime soon.” She made some significant distance from the hive before finally landing on a branch to scan the area.

Ferns, pine cones, poison ivy... “Ooo!” she peered closer to a few trees over at the base of a sapling where a lush patch of silver sage covered the forest floor. After making sure the coast was clear of any more flying creatures that might take an interest in her, she fluttered down from her perch.

She ran her fingers over the silky leaves and sat before pausing, “...I probably shouldn't...” But the woolly leaves were so soft against her skin, and the thought of such a comfortable sleep made her yawn. “Well...if I can't get back to the Underground House, I might as well just snooze for a bit here,” she nestled comfortably into the soft leaves with another yawn, “The portal will be just where I left it when I get back.”

~*~*~*~

"En garde, fiend!!"

Peter slashed at Nibs with his wooden sword, barely missing the Lost Boy's head.

Wendy caught herself staring at the fireplace, and quickly looked up to where the Lost Boys were squabbling, "Tink's been gone for a very long time, Peter," she reminded him, breaking the thread from one of Michael's socks she had just finished mending.

Peter turned to her, parrying an attack from Slightly in the same motion, "Tink... Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her since this morning. Where has she gone to, anyway?"

Wendy rolled her eyes with a deep sigh, "She went to help you pull your prank, Peter!"

"Oh! That's right!!” Peter side-stepped a charging Curly, and the boy landed face first on the dusty floor. "She's probably just making sure Hook's soup is extra disgusting."

"I slightly doubt that, Peter," Slightly spoke up as he darted at him again with his wooden sword, "Tink was more than slightly sleepy. She really wanted to get it over with and get to bed."

"Oh, she'll be fine!" Peter insisted, casually knocking Slightly over after dodging his attack, "She can fly, and the pirates can't. What could possibly happen?!"

~*~*~*~*~

Faint voices interrupted the tranquil sounds of the forest, and Tink was slowly pulled from what had probably been the most sound three hours of sleep she had gotten in a good while. She stretched with a contented sigh before registering that there were others nearby.

Whoever these creatures were had no problem with the whole forest knowing they were there. She shook her head; definitely humans...

Tink flitted a few yards further to a dogwood that lined the edge of a small clearing, where five humans, adults, two males and three females, sat around the beginnings of a small bonfire, one of the boys having a rough go of lighting the tinder.

“Sheezus, Ethan! You're gonna bust a vessel if you keep doin' that!”

This Ethan looked at the girl who had said that from over...some sort of manuscript it seemed, making a show of scraping the flint comically fast.

“Ethan! Stop being an effing goober, and get that fire lit!” another girl, who was unpacking a long, cylindrical bag of poles and what looked to be brightly colored canvas.

“And Susannah! Get off your butt and help!”

The blond girl with the “manuscript” rolled her eyes, reaching for a knapsack near her feet and beginning to unpack half-hazardly as she continued her reading. 

“Come on, Lindsay...” the other boy pleaded, “we can pitch the tent later. The priority right now should be dinner.”

The blond scoffed, “Yeah, since SOME-body didn't wanna stop and get somethin' on the way...”

Lindsay squinted with a huff, and dropped the bag of sticks, “Fine! You guys managed to get the food, right?”

Another two girls, loaded with about as many bags as they could possibly carry, made their way into the clearing.

“Emma?!”

“Yeah! Got it! Got it!” one in a knit hat raised three small, white sacks.

“Guess it's PB and J tonight...” said the last one, who had a strange, blond streak in her oth-erwise mousy hair. She smirked toward Ethan.

“Almost got it, Riley!” exclaimed Ethan, filing away at the flint, no sparks to be seen.

“Ethan...” the other boy placed a hand dramatically on Ethan's shoulder with a whisper, “It's time to stop.”

The boy sighed, drooping his head, “Another day, perhaps...”

Emma waved two jars in his direction, tossing one to Riley, and they all gathered around to make their sandwiches.

Humans, Tink laughed to herself, hopeless as always.

Once they had settled in with their meals, their conversation continued.

“Jared Leto's hot,” the blond lifted her strange manuscript directly to her face.

“Ew, Susie!! He's a douche..." Lindsay wrinkled her nose before taking a bite from her sand-wich.

“Yeah, but he's still hot,” she finally looked up from her reading, “I met 'im back in March, ya know! Right at the end of my internship; they paid for the trip and everything. Didn't get to in-terview him myself, but...”

“That's still pretty impressive,” Grant, the other boy, replied, “All I did for my internship was take pictures of babies and old people. I never realized how similar they were til then...”

“Have to change any diapers?” Riley asked, looking up from a small book she seemed to have been writing in.

Grant shook his head, “It was a close call a couple of times, but no. At least my work there got me a job, though.”

“Oh! Ya'll heard about Lindsay's new job, right?” asked Susannah with a grin, finally closing whatever it was she had been reading.

“Oh, yeah!” Emma, spoke up, “Where'd you say it was at?”

“Pathway Center, a psychiatrist office in Berkeley Lake,” Lindsay straightened up in her chair, “I didn't have much competition. My mom's office works with the company a lot. She put in a good word.”

“Wish I had those kinds of connections,” Emma said with wide eyes, “I think I'll be stuck in insurance my whole life.”

Lindsay shrugged, “It's all about who you know.”

Tink propped her head up with her hand, stifling a yawn with the other. Tin spoons and tonics, human's were boring!

“So, Riley...”

The girl almost jumped as Susannah addressed her, "What'chu up to these days? You always had a lotta' talent in school."

“Eh...Riley closed her book, placing it back in her lap, “Nothing much, I...I'm actually looking for something else right now.”

"Oh..." she nodded knowingly, "Gotcha."

Lindsay, however, persisted, "Yeah, but what are you doing now?”

Riley crossed her legs, her grounded foot bouncing quickly, “I, um...I work in a ware-house...nothing fancy."

“Ah,” her tone was as short as her reply, and the others nodded with no commentary.

Riley's eyes shifted between them expecting someone to say something before continuing. "It's, uh...ya know, a lot of walking and lifting,” she picked at a frayed tab on her book, “It's good exercise, but it's...pretty soul crushing...”

A few nods, and a couple “yeah's” preceded a few seconds of silence, which Susannah at-tempted to end.

“Sooo any prospects, then?”

Riley shrugged, “I've had a couple interviews. Concept art jobs, book companies looking for illustrators..." Her eyes shifted, "And I've been thinking about freelancing...”

Recognizing the awkwardness, Emma quickly picked up the conversation, “Well, you'll defi-nitely find something. You're work is great!”

“Maybe going back to school would help,” all eyes turned to Lindsay, “I mean...there's just not a lot of profit in art, not unless you're really lucky.”

Most of the group seemed uneasy at this point, and Riley seemed to be biting her lip.

She gasped, “What about nursing...something medical! Ya know, saving lives; that would be really good for you.”

Now there was dead silence, and Susannah massaged her temple with a strained look.

Ethan, not one to notice an awkward situation, gave a snort of laughter, "Oh, yeah, a nurse named Riley Blade! That'll go over real well with the patients..." he pulled his shirt to his mouth as if speaking into a clip on mic, "Uuh...Nurse Blade to the biopsy room,please? Nurse Blade?! We're gonna need a leg amputated over here, stat!!"

Grant gave Ethan a punch in the arm, and Riley chuckled dryly, hoping the quip had derailed the conversation. She was afforded no such luck.

"No, I really think something like that might be more fulfilling for you," Lindsay nodded with wide eyes, "My mom has a lot of great contacts she could hook you up with. Knows the best schools too."

Riley cleared her throat with a curt nod, “Sure.” She tapped her nails quickly on her book, be-fore straightening herself, “Oh! Um...I just realized I left something in my car.” She stood pick-ing up a small sack and shoving her book inside, “I'll be right back.”

Susannah mouthed something toward Lindsay with a glare, and finally Riley was out of ear-shot. “The HELL was that?!”

“What?!” Lindsay cocked her head, genuinely confused.

“Are you trying to upset 'er?!””

“NO!”

“Well how do you expect her to react?” Grant shook his head, “Trying to bring up her mom...”

“UH!” her mouth hung open at the accusation, “I didn't bring her up!!”

“Uh! Ya kinda did,” Susannah retorted with crossed arms.

“Oh!” Lindsay crossed her arms as well, “So I guess I can't say anything around her any-more... She's been like this for over a year. When is she gonna snap out of it?!”

“Lindsay...” Emma shook her head with the shrug of a shoulder, “you don't just 'snap out' of something like that. She lost her mother.”

“Well, we can't walk on eggshells forever!”

Tink shook her head. Humans were so dramatic; always a squabble...

That's when Tinkerbell's keen ears picked up a light snap, and turning her head from her position in the trees, she could see Riley leaning against an oak.

~*~*~*~

Riley wiped her eyes before approaching her friends again, “Think I'm gonna head down the trail and find the waterfall. It shouldn't be far.”

The others were startled by her sudden appearance, but nodded, getting the hint that she wanted to go alone. “Alright, let us know how the water is,” Susannah said with a smile.

She was soon pacing through the forest, dodging a few spider webs that had been built re-cently enough for no one to have broken through them yet. She should have known it would turn out like this. She had thought she was in a good enough place to enjoy a trip with her friends, but it just wasn't happening. She dreaded the coming night. She still had the occa-sional difficulty with sleep, and she was certain she would be wide awake tonight.

She had never been very close to or even overtly fond of Lindsay. Part of her wanted to be angry with her. Was she really so dense as to not think maybe suggesting that saving peoples lives would suddenly cure her of grief just might be unwanted advice in her situation?

She stumbled over a protruding rock, catching herself on a tree. Taking pause, she gripped the branch so hard the bark made imprints on her palms.

Lindsay was right, though; she was getting nowhere. Art school had been a waste of her time, and now she was stuck at a job she was drastically overqualified for, barely making a living wage and hating it every day. And then her mother got sick...

Her thoughts were interrupted when pushed aside the tree branch that had been obstructing her path. There, not fifty yards ahead was an exceptionally large black bear. She took a long silent breath, backing away slowly. But it had seen her, and unfortunately it was curious.

“Woah! WOAH! BACK!!” she glanced around as she tried to remain calm. If she ran, it would run after her.

It sniffed the air with a grunt, still advancing.

“GIT!! GO ON!!!” she stomped her foot toward it, causing it to flinch back, but not for long. This bear obviously wasn't the least bit afraid of people. Her eyes shifted desperately again.

There, just through the saplings, she could see a massive tree with a large, dark hollow. Just big enough for her to fit into and be clear of the bear's reach. She calmly but quickly edged toward it. She almost fell backwards as the bear reared back to knock her over, but she nar-rowly evaded and caught herself, before finally wedging herself into the trunk of the tree.

The bear clawed at the bark of the tree, and that was when she remembered the granola bars in her backpack. Almost ripping the zipper open, she scooped out a hand full and tossed it out where the bear made quick work of tearing them open and gobbling them down. But it wasn't satisfied. Riley thought, as it sniffed toward her, that it still thought she had more, but as it reared back again, and leaned it's forepaws against the tree trunk, she realized that it was after something else.

She heard the buzzing before she actually saw the large, gray hive just above her.

“Ooooh! NononononoNONO!!” she tried to back further into the hole. However, it didn't shield her from the angry bees now swarming around the crevice as the bear tore into the hive, unfazed.

She squeezed herself downward, trying not to make too much noise as she felt the first stings. She would have been better off with the bear. Receiving several more stings, she forced herself further down.

And then she fell backward...

She rubbed the back of her head and neck, momentarily forgetting about the painful stings, and when she finally got a grip on her spinning vision, she noticed the open cabinet at her feet. Her eyes shifted back and forth, too dumbfounded to move. Had she fallen out of there? Pots and pans covered a counter top above her, and piles of potatoes and other vegetables were scattered over the wood floor.

She stood slowly. Had there been a house built into the tree? Surely she would have noticed. Maybe she was underground. But how could someone have gotten away with building all this under a public hiking trail? Absent mindedly looking over the old cast iron stove, she tried to sort things out in her head. She had to be unconscious; she had to have been stung so many times she had passed out. Or died...

She removed the lid to a pot that sat over one of the eyes and immediately regretted it. She gagged on the noxious odor, and stumbled backwards in a coughing fit, nearly tripping over a barrel.

"Oh, no...caugh caugh caugh...that is not for eating!" she carefully avoided stepping on any wayward food stuffs with a bit of difficulty.

No, this didn't feel like a dream. She felt so clear headed, everything was so detailed. She quickly decided she should get out of the room before someone caught her or, assuming she wasn't already dead, died of the fumes. She slowly cracked open the door, wincing as it creaked a bit louder than she would have liked, and found that it went to a long hallway. Like the kitchen, everything was wood, the ceiling, the floors, the walls, and she slowly began to realize that the entire structure was swaying. A ship?

As she neared the other end of the hallway, she could make out an opening in the ceiling that shone a beam of light from outside, illuminating the wooden ladder below it. She could hear the sound of waves as she neared the opening and crept slowly to the foot of the steps, hoping to take a look at what or who was on deck, but all she could make out was the mainmast and a bit of rigging.

Just as she had taken her first step up the stairs, she almost lost her footing when a small, pinkish light zipped past her and out the hatchway. She quickly caught her breath, but when she directed her sight back to the hatchway, she froze. She stared face to face at a dark skinned boy, no older than about fifteen or sixteen, both of them frozen in their spot.

Riley struggled to speak, to give some explanation for her presence, but she wasn't given a chance. Just as she noticed the skull and crossbones flag that flew at the top of the main-mast, a rather rough looking man appeared beside the boy, and without pause alerted the others.

"Ahoy!! Stowaway!!!"

Riley's stomach leapt into her mouth, her legs taking over and propelling her back toward the galley as fast as they could carry her.

"There's a stowaway on board, maties!!" she could hear the man from behind her, "Hurry, ya dogs!"

She heard the rumble of footsteps in the hallway and tripped over several pots and pans and vegetable piles before diving into the cabinet. But instead of finding herself back inside the bee-infested tree trunk, she hit her head on the wooden back panel.

"What?!!" she squeaked, "Where's the hole?!!!"

Having no time to panic, she quickly pulled the door closed and huddled up in the corner. How many poor decisions could she make in an evening? One way or another, she was dead for sure.

The bi-fold door slammed open against the wall, and several pairs of footsteps could be heard storming into the room.

"Yeh see 'em, maties?' said one deep voice.

"No… I should say they're hiding here somewhere," said a higher pitched voice.

"Come out, come out, wherever yeh be!" came an Irish accented voice. This voice echoed as he had apparently picked up one of the many pots and was calling into it.

Riley covered her mouth and nose with one hand and attempted to calm her breathing. After several seconds of silence, she thought they may have given up. But that fleeting hope was replaced with fear as the door to her cabinet swung open.


	3. Chapter 3

Riley's breath hitched in her chest as she was met with the sneering face of the pirate who had first announced her presence.

He cackled through gapped teeth , "Weeell, looky here, maties; it's a wench!"

Without a moment to think, she dove between the man's legs, scrambled under the table, and bolted into the hallway. He almost somersaulted between his own legs before steadying himself. "'Ey!! Yeh little-- there she goes, dogs! Get 'er!!"

She nearly tripped over the steps of the ladder and came close to face planting to the ground when she sprang out of the open hatch. She fumbled about for a panicky moment until she caught sight of an island just in the distance. Quickly, she headed for the edge. After knocking over an empty barrel and leaping over coils of rope, she reached the side. One leg was already over the railing when she happened to glance down to see the gaping jaws of one massive crocodile.

Riley froze as the reptile snapped its jaws with a low, growling hiss. She slid slowly back to the deck after her limbs were capable of movement again then turned to run to the other side in hopes that there was some sort of lifeboat.

She would never make it far enough to find out. With an unflattering “oof!”, she found her face buried in a solid mass, and it took a few seconds to register that she had run into a person. An involuntary gasp escaped her as she felt something cool and hard under her chin, and her head was lifted to meet cold eyes and a sly, toothy grin.

"Weeell," the man spoke with a deep, mockingly sweet voice, “What, pray tell, do we have here?"

Riley quickly backed away from this bear of a man. He towered head and shoulders above even the largest of the other men, standing around seven feet at least. And he wasn't just tall; his limbs alone were the width of tree trunks. Riley had never in her life seen a man this large. Not in person. He was clearly the Captain, and it didn't take the billowing cape and captain's hat to know. His imperial air was domineering, his underlings immediately becoming docile in his presence.

He leered down with a villainously charming smirk, and she muffled a yelp as he backed her into a barrel. In seconds, she was surrounded by snarling, sword-wielding pirates.

The one that had first found her, Robert Mullins, rubbed his thumb across the blade of his cutlass, "A stowaway, Cap'n! Found 'er in the cabinet down in the galley! Quick little devil evaded us and tried ta jump ship!"

"Tried to run fer it, she did, Cap'n," the Irishman, Mr. Smee, added. Riley wondered whether the man was hard of hearing.

"Is that so?" the Captain purred, sauntering up to, once again, close the remaining distance between them.

That's when Riley noticed the steel hook that capped off the stump of his right forearm as he raised the appendage slowly to her cheek. She flinched at both the cold metal and the sharp point that threatened to prick her skin as he spoke low and calm.

"Do you know what traditionally becomes of stowaways on board the Jolly Roger, my dear?"

She bit the inside of her jaw to keep it from shaking as she attempted to keep calm. “I-I...have an educated guess..." she whimpered with a sheepish, grin.

His eyes bore into her until she was reduced to no more than a mouse before a lion, and he chuckled darkly. “Oh, surely you must..." His voice rumbled deep within his chest, and he ro-tated the metallic appendage under her chin, lifting her face closer with the curved edge. Riley fidgeted, her cheeks flushed whether from fear, embarrassment, or just from how close the Captain's face now was to hers.

It was difficult to hold his penetrating gaze, and Riley gave it her all to not avert her eyes. Be-hind the roguish sneer, she could make out the gears turning in his head, and she was certain he was planning what her punishment would be.

"However...” he finally continued, “I am known, on occasion, to be a gentleman of compas-sion.” Riley rubbed at her neck after he turned away and the hook finally left her, attempting to remove the tingle that still phantomed across her skin. The Captain removed a handkerchief from a breast pocket in his coat and polished the smooth, curved metal delicately. “I don't know how you found your way onto this ship without my notice, little miss, but mayhap it is a blessing in disguise.”

Riley cocked her head with a furrowed brow, sure she wouldn't like where this could be going.

He faced her once again, this time a much more comfortable distance away. “This filthy scrunge bucket could perhaps use a...feminine touch.”

"But, Cap'n!" the one called Mullins interrupted, not lowering his cutlass, "Never was luck on a pirate ship with a woman on board! We might as well surrender the Jolly Roger now fer all the good she'll do us!"

Riley wasn't so frightened as to not look insulted, but her narrowed eyes widened when the Captain caught Mullins's collar with his namesake. With no effort at all, he lifted the scruffy pirate a good two feet off of the ground to come face to face with him.

"Why! You useless, superstitious Brooklyn broom bandit!! Don't backtalk me with that sort of tripe!" he tossed the pirate aside, who landed hard on his backside, and leered down at Riley with a smile that, to his credit, was intended to be sincere, "A lady is just what this hovel of a ship needs."

Riley wrung her fingers white behind her back.

He removed his hat and made a show of bowing deeply, "Captain James Hook, at your ser-vice, my lady."

Riley's expression didn't change. Captain James Hook? Had she heard that right?

"Oh…" she muttered rather stupidly. Maybe it was a coincidence? Maybe there really was a real pirate named James Hook. She refrained from shaking her head as she realized that it didn't really matter if this was truly THE James Hook or not, this was still a two hundred year old pirate ship, and she had still gotten here through a tree. The possibilities were endless as far as she was concerned.

"And…" he purred, replacing his hat, "you are?"

She snapped out of her haze, "Uh, Riley...Blade...”

"Blade," Hook repeated, almost as if testing its quality. “A strange coincidence, would you not say? For us both to have weaponized surnames?” He stroked his chin with a sideways downward glance at her, "Unfortunate, Miss Blade, that you are “blade” only in name." His fingers caressed the steel hook again in emphasis.

"Cookson! Bring tea and scones to my cabin," Hook offered Riley his arm, "Come, my dear."

She glanced up at him from over her glasses, unconvinced that his intentions were entirely pure. However, being surrounded by vicious pirates, there wasn't much of a choice. She cautiously wrapped her arm around the massive girth of his own and followed him, taking a glance back at the others and receiving a warning glare from Mullins.

She clenched her teeth as she looked back up at the Captain. This was certainly a doozy of a situation she had gotten herself into.

Riley had to walk twice as fast as she normally would to keep up with Hook's long strides. He led her to a pair of large, gold-framed double doors just beneath the helm, which he opened and gallantly motioned for her to enter ahead of him. She wandered in casually, observing the luxurious contents of the room.

A large desk sat to her right next to the door where several gold and silver trinkets lined the attached shelves. Two maps sat upon the desk, one seeming to be a map of ocean currents and the other of an island, she assumed the one she had seen while out on deck. She also noticed a large, open book, probably the ship's log, and noted that the visible entries were all signed in elegantly formed cursive: Captain Jas. Hook. Next to the window was a large, lavish bed with red, velvet dressing, and perched on the foot board was a rather large and rather ugly parrot with an eye patch.

The parrot had immediately begun squawking various piratical phrases when Hook opened the door, cocking its head and eying Riley curiously. Books lined every shelf of the large cabin, all of them worn, clearly having been put to good use. And against the back wall in the very center was a large, wooden harpsichord with golden pipes that arched into the shape of a hook.

"Impressive, is it not?" Riley nearly jumped at the Captain's voice directly behind her.

She expressed her slight annoyance by replying with an unenthusiastic "sure." Hook startled her again when she felt his hand nudge the small of her back, and he directed her to an ornate Victorian sofa that sat against the window across from his bed.

After Cookson had brought them the requested tea and scones, Hook shut and locked the door behind him, and Riley fidgeted under his gaze as he sized her up.

"Miss Blade…" he finally spoke handing her a cup of tea and offering her one of the tiny bis-cuits, "It is 'miss', isn't it?"

Riley nodded, "Yes," she answered, inspecting the scone curiously, "or just 'Riley' is what most people call me."

“Oh, no, my dear! It would be entirely unbecoming of a gentleman to call a lady by her first name. And we have yet to be properly acquainted."

Riley squirmed in her seat again, nibbling at her scone, "Oh…um…yeah, I mean...whichever is fine, I guess..."

"So," he continued, seating himself in a chair that matched the sofa in which she was seated, "How exactly did you happen upon my ship?"

Riley furrowed her eyebrows, wringing her hands nervously,”Well...uh...” she drifted off, una-ble to find a way to explain the situation that didn't sound as far-fetched as it was.

"Fear not, dear girl," he coaxed gently, sounding much more sincere this time, "I'll not harm you."

She sighed, rubbing the side of her neck nervously, "Basically, I was walking in the woods near mine and my friends' campsite. I ran into this black bear that wanted the granola bars in my backpack, so I found a hole in a tree. And then there were bees, and I fell, and...I was here...”

There was nothing Riley hated more than awkward silence, but awkward silence with Captain Hook was the worst.

He arched a brow, “You got here...through a tree?”

“I-I mean...it happened kinda fast. It was just...one second I was in a tree being stung by bees, and the next, I was tossed out a cabinet.”

“Mm...” he set his cup aside, “You are of course aware of how implausible that sounds...”

She shrugged helplessly, “I swear! I-I don't know what else to tell you; that's what happened! I mean, l-look at this...” she pointed to her elbow, “Bee sting. Bee sting. Bee sting.” She continued pointing at various welts on her body. “Bee sting. Bee sting. Bee sti-”

“Yes!” he interjected as she went to pull up her shirt tail, “I understand your meaning.”

"All I can figure is that it was a wyrm hole or something,” she said, throwing up her hands and sighed, “If I were lying, it would have been a much better lie, I promise.”

"A wyrm hole," he stroked his strong jaw thoughtfully.

"Yeah…like a portal. Some kind of rip in spacetime."

The Captain's intense, icy eyes bore into her in silence.

"I know it sounds stupid, alright?" she glanced down at the floor, “I'm just telling you what must have happened.”

Hook watched her for a moment. She was probably even more confused about her situation than he was. And she looked dreadfully out of place. He couldn't imagine anywhere else but Neverland that would produce a human with two toned hair, but her clothing didn't match any he had ever seen before. He had encountered women wearing men's clothing before. He didn't understand why it was done, outside of a need to pass off as a man for practical reasons; though this clearly wasn't the case here. She hadn't attempted to hide any womanly features; her clothing clung to her tight enough to clearly reveal a...healthily buxom figure. And with the highly cropped trousers, whatever culture she hailed from must have been much less demure than his own.

He realized what he was staring at and darted his eyes elsewhere. He took note of the strange pendant that hung from around her neck; three triangles that composed a single larger one. Perhaps it was some family emblem.

"Mystic things do tend to happen around this cursed island, my dear," he finally replied, "but not without some kind of purpose. Was there anything else of suspicion?"

She pursed her lips, thinking hard about what she had seen through the confusion. The light! “There was a pink light! It flew past me when I was going up the ladder before that kid found me."

"A pink light?" Hook pondered for only a moment before realization dawned on him, "Tinkerbell! I might have known..."

She cocked her head, "Tinkerbell?" she repeated, "...so… you really are THE Captain Hook?"

Hook's icy eyes lit with pride, "As per usual, my reputation precedes me," he stood, "The most feared pirate to ever sail the Spanish Main," he boasted with a bow, reaching over to take her hand, "in the flesh and steel," and he raised her raising her hand to his lips and placing a kiss on the back of it.

"It sure does…" Riley squeaked. She again found it impossible to keep his gaze as she knew she was blushing much more deeply than she would have liked.

"Tell me, Miss Blade," he said, still not surrendering her hand back to her, "Where are you from? Certainly not here?"

She tried to hide her discomfort, but she couldn't help continuously glancing down at their joined hands. "Georgia," she answered softly.

"Georgia," he repeated, "Of the States?"

"Yeah…"

"I see,” he finally released her hand and stood, reaching over to take a sip of his tea, "Well… seeing as you will most likely be staying in Neverland for quite some time, I shall allow you to stay aboard the Jolly Roger," he smiled tenderly down at her, "Not to worry, though, my dear. You will be treated as a lady, and be given a room worthy of such."

“Erm...well...thanks...” she suddenly shook her head, “But I have to find my way back home! My friends are expecting me back! They're gonna think I was eaten by that bear!”

“Not to worry, my lady. I have sources more knowledgeable than myself of the strange work-ings of Neverland,” he pressed a fist to his broad chest, “I shall see to it that a way back for you is found as swiftly as possible.”

Hook turned his empty teacup over and sat it on its coaster, quickly noting that Riley's teacup was still practically full. He cleared his throat, pretending to not be offended. 'No matter,' he reasoned, 'I do tend to forget how deficient Cookson's tea is.' He quickly shook the thought.

"In the meantime," he continued, "I do so hope that you will do me the honor of joining me here in my cabin for supper."

“Oh...” she nodded slowly, "Sure."

"Superb," he was about to extend a hand to help her up, but he stopped, "Ah! I almost forgot."

He quickly turned to a chest that sat against the wall beside his bed. He retrieved a key from inside his coat and unlocked the large, golden lock, raising the lid and rummaging through its contents. Riley watched him curiously as he would lift one of the garments from inside to examine it then toss it back to look at another.

Finally, he seemed to have found what he was looking for, and he turned back to Riley hold-ing up a frilled, pink dress that she could only describe as 'precious'.

"You may wear this during your stay here, Miss Blade; you needn't resort to wearing...” he motioned toward her lower half, “...trousers...when I have something that compliments you so grandly here," he handed her the dress with a grin completely devoid of irony.

"Erm… you really don't have to do that, I mean… I'm sure it's really…" she glanced down at the pink mass, "expensive, and I can just wear what I'm already wearing, it's no big-"

"Oh, no, I insist, my dear! Of what use is such finery if it is never worn?"

She scrunched her nose before he took her hand once again and pulled her to stand.

"SMEE!!"

Riley flinched at the sudden outburst right at her ear, and Smee appeared at the door almost before her reaction of surprise was over, saluting the Captain with the eagerness of a puppy ready for a walk.

"Mr. Smee," Hook ordered the small man, "take Miss Blade to the cabin in the fo'c'sle and be sure that everything is to her liking."

He nudged Riley to follow Smee, "Oh! And do be so kind, Smee, as to help the lady with her corset."

“Corset?” But Hook had already shut the door. She stared at the wood grain for several se-conds and sighed in defeat.

"Well, lassie," Smee said, a wide grin plastered on his whiskered face, "shall we, then?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Begorra, missy, but the Cap'n seems happier than a leprechaun with a pot o' gold this ev'nin'."

Smee was now trying the fifth out of the ring of keys he held, jabbing it into the keyhole, wriggling it about, then moving on to the next when it didn't fit.

"Yeah?" Riley leaned against the doorframe, attempting to seem calm despite her fingers rapidly tapping against her folded arms.

"Aye! Th' 'ole crew seems teh be in 'igh spirits as a matter o' fact," he grinned deliriously, child-like eyes beaming, "Mason even offered ta show yeh 'round the crew's sleepin' quarters, 'e did!"

Riley faked a surprised gasp, "Did he?!"

"Oh! Aye!" He missed about five times before finally looking where he was putting key seven, unsuccessful again.

"Which one's Mason?"

"Oh! Eh-eh..." he almost dropped the ring of keys, "The ship carpenter; big, strong feller."

She inhaled a hiss, "...great..."

"Happy as clams, the lot of 'em! ...Oh! Eeeh, cept fer Mullins… He seems a tad restless lately. Don't seem teh wanna put down 'is sword fer nothin', neither."

He cackled, and Riley went bug-eyed for a moment, "Oh..."

"Aye!"

There was then a click as he was at long last successful with key number nine. "Ah! There we be!"

Smee finally pulled the door open, motioning for Riley to enter. She had expected to find a somewhat empty room with nothing more than a small cot if she was lucky. So she was pleasantly surprised to find that it was quite generously stocked. The bed was fairly large, actually, though not quite the size of Hook's, and there was a small chest of drawers. She pursed her lips as she wondered if there might be better options inside than her current one.

There was also a small shelf of books, all as worn as the ones in Hook's cabin, and a single large window that let in the light of the brilliant Neverland sun.

Smee cleared his throat, "Well, then, lass, just yeh go behind the partition there and get into yer petticoat."

She jerked her head back toward him, then back to the pile of clothing cluelessly, "Petticoat..."

Smee adjusted his spectacles, "That there white one, lass."

She shuffled through the bundle a moment, seeing that there was indeed a white garment trapped in the expanse of pink.

"Oh…" she dumped the dress to the floor taking said petticoat and stepping behind the partition. Just another layer to more effectively be baked in the hot sun, she thought as she removed her clothes and pulled the scratchy garment over her head.

"Yeh ready there, then, lassy?"

Riley sighed, "Sure…"

Smee had her fasten the corset around her waist and began tightening. She gasped and immediately regretted it. For such a small man, Smee was strong, and she worried that the laces would snap each time he tugged on them. How they weren't cutting into his fingers, she had no idea.

"There! Heh! I hope that's tight enough..." Smee scratched his head, "Alrighty, then, lass. Let's get that dress on so we can make sure she fits."

Riley turned, arms stiff very much like a Barbie doll. Smee handed her the pink bundle, and she stepped back behind the partition. She held it up by a sleeve poof. In less than an hour, people were going to see her actually wearing this. She picked apart pieces of fabric, looking through the fluff for an opening.

She stuck her head in, only to be trapped in a lacy pocket. She growled in frustration, spreading apart section by section of fabric. 'Do I have to teleport into this thing? What?' Her frustration naturally directed itself at the person responsible for her struggles. 'Damn pirate...'

By some miracle, she at last found her way into the overly-complicated garment and waddled back around the divider.

"Well, I suppose that'll about do it then," Smee stepped outside the door, "Cookson'll tell yeh when the cap'n's ready for yeh," Smee assured, "Goodbye, then, missy."

As Smee left, Riley turned toward the mirror and gave a start. "Yeah…" she glowered, her annoyance at Hook growing nearly to anger, "He's gonna know exactly how much I appreciate this mess."

She looked herself up and down and quietly wondered if she might actually glow in the dark. The poofs at her shoulders were not at all flattering, and the skirt of the dress had to be at least five or six feet in diameter. It was obvious now why she had needed the corset; there was no way she could have fit into this monstrosity without one. The only good thing she could say about it was that that it made her boobs look amazing.

She jumped when without so much as a knock, Cookson entered the small cabin. "Eez dinner time!" he announced then left as quickly as he had appeared.

"Kay, thanks!" she yelled loudly after him. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she sighed, ruffling her hair in the hopes it would make her look a bit more like herself, "Thanks ever-so-much..."

Fingers floated across ivory keys, and Hook allowed himself to close his eyes, savoring the music as it overtook his senses. It was rare that he was in such a mood that allowed him to play so flawlessly, especially considering his handicap. A mood this good usually involved the capture of Peter Pan, and that hope was exactly what put him in such high spirits today. The most sure way to lure Pan to his doom had always been with the aid of a hostage. The wretch's annoyingly noble sensibilities required that he rescue any innocent in such dire straits. Even an adult.

And the maid's adulthood is what would make it so easy. After all, only children could fly. All he need do was to keep the girl placated until the right time came. He knew better than to let her in on his plan. Women were mothers by nature, and he doubted that she would go along with the idea of him using her to capture a child, no matter how horrid the boy may be. Nor did he think it wise to act as her captor. He had made the mistake of underestimating women in his younger days, and another escape attempt would only put plans at risk. What he needed was to make her seem like a prisoner to Pan while making her feel secure at the same time. It would be a delicate task, but if there was anything Hook was exceptional at, it was manipulation.

The notes halted at the light but quick knock on the door.

He adjusted his cravat as his long strides brought him quickly to the door, and he cleared his throat before opening it.

The young lady's eyes were wide, almost as if she hadn't expected him to answer, but he took in the ornate gown on her, deciding he was glad to have kept it instead of letting it go to the highest bidder.

"You look positively stunning, my dear," he beamed as he took her hand to gently brush his lips against it

Riley's fists grasped at the fluff of material at her side, "Thanks…"

Hook guided her to a seat at the end of a table that had been moved to the center of the room, pulling it out for her, and she sat. After confirming that she was comfortable, Hook took his own seat at the other end of the table next to where Short Tom sat on his perch.

"Neverberry wine, miss?"

Riley jumped at Smee's question, and Hook pursed his lips to stifle a chuckle. Her eyes shifted from the bottle, to Smee, back to the bottle, and then to Hook for a moment before returning to Smee.

"I think I'll pass this time, thanks."

"Oh… eh w-well" Smee stuttered, glancing nervously from her to Hook, who unsuccessfully attempted to hide a look of contempt. "W-would yeh be preferin' rum, then? Perhaps whiskey?" Smee persisted, sensing his Captain's annoyance that he was not properly satisfying his guest.

Hook muffled a barely audible groan of disdain and noticed Riley sink ever so slightly into her seat.

"No, thanks…"

Smee paused for a moment, again glancing nervously at Hook. "Well?" he growled toward the clueless bosun.

"Eh…" Smee uttered, clearly not understanding what Hook wanted from him, "...Cap'n?"

Both Smee and Riley jumped a good two inches when Hook's hook made contact with the table in front of him, "Go get some WATER ya clapperdudgeon LUMMOX!"

Smee nearly dropped the wine bottle with a yelp, "Aye, aye, sir!" and he disappeared out the door at an extremely impressive speed for someone his age.

"Ya lummox!" Short Tom squawked, "Get some water! Get some water!"

Hook took note of the girl's unease and gave her a gentle grin, "Do excuse my bosun, Madame. He is quite incompetent at the best of times."

"… that's alright…" she replied quietly.

"Was the cabin to your liking?"

"Yeah…" she responded simply, turning to the plate of food in front of her and digging in, "it's nice."

Hook furrowed his brow, puzzling over her short answers but quickly shrugged it off. Probably at a loss for words after her previous plight. She also must have been very hungry to eat any of Cookson's swill as voraciously as she was, so he busied himself with his own food, allowing her to have a few quiet moments to eat.

He looked up at her occasionally, each time to find her full attention still on the meal before her, and he felt the beginnings of wear on his sensitive nerves. Was she simply gorging herself to refrain from speaking with him?

"… ahem…"

She finally acknowledged him with eye contact, though she still chewed a mouthful of potatoes and meat.

"I...take it you enjoy the food?"

The question had clearly alerted her to how quickly she was scarfing it down, and she covered her mouth with a hand and nodded, swallowing quickly, "Yes...thanks..."

The roast was quite dry and the potatoes unpleasantly firm. Her answer was either from hunger, or an attempt at flattery. Hook raised an eyebrow as she bit into a dinner roll with a loud crunch, "First time for everything," he mumbled under his breath.

He shook his head subtly, 'Belay that, Hook... How could you expect a Yank to have the same luxuries as a British noblewoman?'

"I'm happy to see that the dress fits you nicely," Hook continued. "I had hoped I would have a use for it after I acquired it from a French merchant vessel. Does it please you?"

This finally seemed to catch her interest, as she finally relented her silverware. "Erm..." she swallowed, wiping her mouth with her napkin, "...well, about that..."

Hook's brow creased again, and he could sense her discomfort increase.

"Not that I don't appreciate it; it does seem to be an expensive dress, but I'd kinda rather wear my own clothes if that's ok."

Hook cocked his head, "Pardon?" He said this partially for clarification and partially because she had said it so fast, he wasn't sure he had heard her properly.

She bowed her head as she continued, "I mean… I… appreciate what you're trying to do for me, but… I think I'd feel better if I could just, ya know, go casual like everyone else…" She paused, attempting to read his expression, "Actually, I wouldn't mind at all working for my stay here…if you want, I could—"

"Oh, dear girl! You need not feel obligated to repay me for my hospitality," he insisted with a wave of his hand, "I do not do this for something in return, but because it merely pleases me to be of service to a young woman in need of assistance."

"And like I said, I appreciate it. I really really do! But I thought, ya know, maybe if I could help out around here maybe you'd have more time to see about getting me home and out of your hair."

A slight frown creased Hook's features. What sort of woman refused free room and board? Gears turned quickly as he mulled her request over. Having her work could easily ruin what he had planned; and while he would have offered a lady food, shelter, and clothing under any circumstances, the dress, in his mind, cemented her role in his plot in a most crucial way. It's what Pan would expect of a damsel in distress.

"You're asking to be a member of the crew?"

She shrugged, "Well, I mean...not permanently, just-"

"Madam," he began pointedly, "a pirate ship is no place for a lady in the first place. I have already gotten objections to your staying here at all." He placed his napkin on his plate, "As I said before, Miss Blade, you needn't repay me for my hospitality. I am glad to provide you shelter and my protection for as long as you remain in Neverland without compensation."

The girl sighed, "Alright…I understand you mean well, but…I didn't ask for your protection. You captured me, remember?"

Hook only let the insult show in his face for a split second, before hiding it behind a desperately charming smile, "Please, Miss Blade..." he purred, "...do not think that you are being held prisoner here."

"Then you wouldn't mind if I left?"

His face visibly stiffened, "That would be unwise..."

"But I could," she placed an elbow on the table, pointing with her fork, "If I insisted."

He felt the irritation scratching at the corridors of his mind, "Then I would have to insist that you not."

She cocked her head with a knowing look.

"I—" Hook countered, but he didn't finish. Instead, he sighed, begging to the gods for patience he had never been apt at wielding "My dear…Neverland is not a place one would want to get lost in."

"Really?" she said snippily, ignoring Short Tom's screeches of 'get lost', "You seem to have plenty of maps lying around. You couldn't bear parting with one?"

He swallowed a growl, his chair screeching across the floor as he stood abruptly and noted with amusement Riley's flinch.

"Neverland isn't a place that a young woman should be roaming about unaccompanied in," his tone challenged her to argue the point further as he paced to the window, "Perhaps, like those wretched children… you think Neverland to be a whimsical, amusive place." He gazed out the window, hand stroking his hook at the small of his back before looking over his shoulder. "It isn't."

He turned to eye her darkly, "This cursed island is a cruel place, Miss Blade. There are a plethora of plights out there that test even the likes of me."

"Like the crocodile?"

Hook's narrowed eyes darted toward her. Who was this girl? She couldn't possibly know his fear of the Croc. He shook off his initial surprise. She had seen the Croc earlier that day; clearly she referred to it merely as an example than a knowing accusation.

"That would be one instance, yes. This god-forsaken archipelago is a breeding ground for chaos. Numberless horrors await a hapless traveler unfortunate enough to stumble into their midst," he paced to leer ominously above her, "If you wish to return home, traipsing about that island on your own is a sure way to insure it never happens."

The girl fixed him with a calculating look, and Hook cursed himself for not being more prepared for resistance.

"Is the dress to protect me too?"

He cursed this girl and her aptitude for asking questions as well. Under most circumstances, his presence alone intimidated anyone into complying without a word. Anyone but Peter Pan...he realized, and his frayed nerves flared at the thought. "I have a standard to hold to on my ship, Miss. As my temporary ward, you will hold to them as well."

"I don't see anyone else in a dress," she motioned in the direction of the main deck with a flippant wave.

He finally let a low growl escape him freely, "I no longer wish to argue with you, my dear."

She finally stood as well, "Well, I do!" The top of her head barely reached the center of his chest, but she didn't seem to be off-put by it at this point, "It's one hundred plus degrees outside, I can barely breath, my arms look like a couple a' raw leg of lambs, and this damn petticoat is itchy as hell!"

The candlelight reflected red in Hook's forget-me-not eyes, "You have no want for complaints of "hell" yet, girl!" she had no time to flinch away as he grasped her chin to force her eyes to his, "I have been nothing but a gracious host thus far. Don't make me change that; neither of us would like it... Now finish your meal," he let go of her chin, finding joy in the angry and embarrassed flush in her cheeks, "My men have to clean this up before two bells, and I don't intend for them to fall behind."

Hook didn't miss the incense in her eyes as she sat down hard and tore back into the rigid bread. He smirked, "Perhaps while you're here, we can work on your manners as well..." He chuckled silently as he caught the bulgy-cheeked glare she fixed him with before turning away, lightly scolding himself for enjoying her discontent so much. But, Zeus, she was making it difficult for herself.

He couldn't find too much joy in it, however, as he unfortunately hadn't given her as much incentive to cooperate with him as he had intended, and he considered having an extra man on watch tonight. Perhaps he could station one of his dogs on the quarterdeck to keep an eye on her door. Yes, that would surely be sufficient. He didn't want to resort to ropes and chains just yet, and on the bright side, having her a tad discontented would further sell his illusion. She would make fine bait for Pan and his cronies yet.

Both turned their surprise to Smee, as he burst through the door and made quick work of filling Riley's glass with water. As he noticed both sets of eyes so intense upon him, he nearly filled it to overflowing before jerking the pitcher away with a slosh of water onto the table.

"Eh...would everything be alright, Cap'n?"

Hook smiled gently to the man, "Positively delightful, my dear bosun." He turned his eyes back to Miss Blade. "No complaints whatsoever."


	5. Chapter 5

Peter somersaulted midair before diving headfirst into his tree at the Underground House, "Keep up, Nibs! Or I'll have to tell Wendy and the Lost Boys about our latest adventure all by myself!"

Nibs corkscrewed into his own tree, "Right behind you, Peter!" He didn't bother to mention that Peter would be doing all the telling on his own either way, as always.

Peter stuck a perfect landing in the center of the meticulously swept dirt floor, "Wendy! What an adventure we've just had!" he stepped before the girl, fists on his hips and chest puffed up proudly.

Wendy sighed, glancing up from the hearth she was lighting, "You've been gone all night, Peter. You really shouldn't do that so much, you know. Even you need your sleep."

"Sleep?! Who can sleep when there's so much of Neverland to discover?! Nibs and I just got back from the Neverswamp again!"

"Again?!" Tootles groaned mid-stretch, rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Aw! I never get to go to the Neverswamp!"

"Like I said, Tootles..." Peter gave a childish chuckle, "ya can't have adventures if you're sleeping!"

"We can go again sometime, Tootles," Nibs assured the small, pudgy boy, "Besides, I think those water nymphs still have a score to settle with us."

Peter laughed, "They sure didn't like us playing in their swamp! They tried to drown us both and—"

"PeeeeetEEEERRR!"

All heads turned to the source of the irritated voice of a rather disheveled Tinkerbell fluttering at the chute that led up to the forest floor.

"Oh, Tinkerbell! Ya gotta hear about our grand adventure!"

"Save it, Peter," Tink warned from between gritted teeth, then fluttered up to her flower situated on the mantle on the wall, "Do you have any idea how long I've been trying to find you?!"

"Well, uh..." Peter shrugged sheepishly.

"Do you have ANY IDEA what a mess your ridiculous prank has caused?!"

Peter cocked his head to one side, squinting an eye, "What prank?"

There was a short moment of complete silence in which Tink looked as if she might pop before she gave a very un-pixie-like grunt and slapped a palm over her forehead, "The prank that you made me help pull on Hook, you silly ass!"

Peter's face brightened despite the insult, "Oh, that prank! Did ya put the Neverswamp water in Hook's soup? How mad did he get?! I'll bet Cookson got a flogging for that one! Hahaaa! I wish I'd seen it!"

"Of course, I didn't! I didn't get a second to stop and think!" her wings beat nervously of their own accord, "I was almost caught pulling that stupid prank! I had to use my fairy dust to make a galley-trap to get away, and… oh, it's just too horrible to even think about, Peter!"

"What is it, Tinkerbell?" Wendy asked, "Why are you so upset?"

"I think…" she fluttered to sit on the petal of her flower with another sigh, "I think I accidentally let a grownup into Neverland."

There was a simultaneous gasp from everyone in the room, and Peter's features darkened, "Wh- what do you mean, you let a grownup into Neverland?!"

"I didn't mean to, Peter," she hugged her legs to her chest, "I was stuck in the galley, and Cookson wouldn't leave long enough for me to get away! I used some of the dust I got at Small Monday Island to make a galley-trap that was supposed to get me back here. But instead, it took me somewhere else… somewhere far away of Neverland. Far, FAR away! Then I decided to rest my eyes for a few minute, and I thought it was well hidden enough in the trunk of that tree, but she must have wandered in while I wasn't looking."

"Tink, how could you let a grownup just wander into Neverland right under your nose?!"

Wendy puzzled, a finger pressed against pursed lips, "But grownups have gotten into Neverland before. The pirates are grownups. What difference does one more make?"

Tink sighed with a shake of her head, "Neverland brought the pirates here, you silly human! This one went in on her own. She shouldn't be here!"

"Wait, wait wait..." Peter interrupted, "So what you're saying is you left her in the galley…on the Jolly Roger?!"

Tink wrinkled her nose, "Yes, but I don't see what that has to—"

"Don't ya see?!" He sprung into the air and took flight, "That means she's been captured by the pirates! And that means we have to rescue her!" he weaved in and out of the gathering of Lost Boys, "Lets hope Hook hasn't already made her walk the plank, yet!"

"This is not a game, Peter! This is ser-"

Peter's rallying crow cut Tinkerbell off, "Look, Lost Boys! We've got a maiden to save from an ugly old dragon!"

"Yeah! An opportunity to tip the scales in our favor!" There was a collective groan at Curly's pun, before laughter and cheers erupted and the boys took flight.

They followed Peter out of the underground house with whoops and cheers, leaving only Tink and Wendy alone.

Tink rolled her eyes, "Oh, sometimes I think I will never understand that boy!"

Wendy shrugged, "Boys will be boys, Tink. You know that."

Riley was shaken awake by several quick knocks on the door of her cabin. Groaning in drowsy irritation, she rolled over, still half asleep.

Another quick rap on the door finally made her respond, "Whaaat?"

"Eh, Bosun Smee 'ere, lassy! Cap'n's expectin' ya fer breakfast this a'mornin'!" he opened the door slowly, peaking in to make sure it was alright to come in.

She groaned even louder at this, "What time is it?"

"O-six hundred hours, Miss," he replied setting her newly laundered dress onto her nightstand, "Cap'n'll want ya in 'is cabin within the hour."

"An hour?" Riley slurred sleepily, "I could'a gotten at least another forty-five minutes of sleep."

"Wha's that, lass?" Smee questioned, as he readied her petticoat.

She sat up on the side of the bed, stretching and speaking through a yawn, "Nothin'...lets get this over with."

As she took the offered petticoat from Smee, she instantly noticed that this wasn't the scratchy fabric of the one she had worn the day before. As she rubbed the fabric between thumb and forefinger, Smee nodded, "The dear Cap'n had me make yeh a new petticoat, 'e did! Just finished it a few minutes ago."

Riley's jaw dropped, "You made this?" When he nodded, she shook her head with a small laugh, "You didn't have to stay up all night to do that for me..."

"Oh, twas no trouble, lassy!" he adjusted his spectacles proudly, "Also let yer dress out a wee bit for a more proper fit...as per the Cap'n's orders..."

She slung the petticoat over her arm and held up the dress. Sure enough, there had been added a strip of floral fabric to each side that complimented the pink and lace well. Still not at all her style, but it looked...cute.

She turned a skeptical eye to the bosun, "The Captain had you do this?"

"Aye! The man wants ta keep 'is guests comfortable-like."

She thanked him, taking the new petticoat from him and stepping behind the partition.

The task of getting into her clothes was a much smoother one, and after washing up and taming the morning rat's nest on her head, she was ready in ten minutes. Before she stepped outside, she spotted her backpack and folded clothes on the floor next to her bed. Her eyes shifted between the door, and the pile before she grabbed the shorts, and slipped them on under her dress, then rummaged through her pack to stuff a few affects into her pockets.

She happened to glance at her phone to see that it read 7:43 pm. That would have been very close to when she had found herself in this place. She shook her head; of course, it wouldn't work properly in Neverland. She shoved it into her pocket, then smoothed down her skirts, being sure to hide any sign that she was wearing anything under them. Finally, she made her way to the deck.

Riley stepped out of her cabin, closing the door silently behind her. Despite how early it was, the Neverland sun had risen over the horizon in streaks of pinks and oranges that reflected like jewels in the clear waves, and she couldn't think of a time she had ever seen such a gorgeous sunrise. Though, she hadn't been an early enough riser to often enjoy sunrises back home.

Finally directing her eyes to the main deck below her, she caught every man there quickly avert their eyes back to what they had been preoccupied with prior to her presence. Despite the Captain's efforts to keep her content, a tinge of annoyance still nagged at her. She wasn't exactly fond of being made a spectacle of.

Ignoring the awkward vibe, she descended the stairs to the main deck. She kept an eye on the door to the Captain's cabin, but there wasn't a stir there. Satisfied that she didn't yet have to deal with him, she continued around the deck's edge, keeping a wide berth from each of the men as she passed them. First was the thin, caped one who was busying himself with inspecting the netting. Then the large, burly guy, pounding a wooden pin into a piece of wood with a massive mallet. She could feel the undoubtedly licentious look he gave her behind her back as she passed.

But that had nothing on the look the scruffy one with the scar across his eye was giving her from where he and the young, dark-skinned boy were polishing a tiger-shaped cannon. He didn't even bother himself with hiding the contempt in his eyes, ans she thought she heard him growl under his breath.

Riley quickly passed them and made herself comfortable near the opposite end of the ship to enjoy the scenic view of the island.

Robert Mullins glared over Long Tom to stare stonily in her direction. She heard the younger boy whisper something and heard the growl from the rugged pirate. "Don't matter whether she mean's any harm, Jukes, she's terrible bad luck on a ship." The boy was much better at keeping his voice down than the elder pirate was, as he replied to his comrade with something she couldn't hear.

"You listen here, boy, I better not catch you within five fathoms a' that girl!" She saw him glance at her again in her peripheral vision. "Just ya wait, Billy-boy! If the brine don't open up ta swallow the Roger whole, those hooligans a' Pan's'll make a shambles of us first. Our luck'll turn sour within hours!"

Starkey, though trying to keep his higher pitched voice a whisper, was even easier for Riley to hear as he neared the other two pirates. "Personally, Robert Mullins, I'm quite fond of the idea of having a lady on board. It's been too long since we've been in the company of a female. And the Captain's right about this place needing a feminine touch."

Riley rolled her eyes.

"Oh, what, Starkey?! Ya been missin' the tea parties?" Mullins jeered, "That's exactly why women ain't got no place on a ship. Next ya know, she'll be havin' the Cap'n make us wear frock coats ta dinner...an' washin' our hands every day..."

"You some kinda walkin' corpse, matey?" Mason growled as he joined the group, "Ya at least gotta agree she's somethin' nice ta look at."

He lightly elbowed Starkey, and they both gave a debauched chuckle.

Riley was now looking directly at the flock of pirates, chin resting on a fist, "You're not so good at whispering, are you?" she chided acerbically.

Mason and Starkey looked startled that she could possibly have heard them, and Mullins simply grunted and returned to his work.

"Oh!" Starkey was almost blushing in embarrassment, "We meant no offense, miss. I assure you." He gave an apologetic bow.

"Course not!" Mason said, propping himself up with the large mallet he had been working with, "it's just, we ain't exactly been around womenfolk much since we've been in Neverland."

"Hmm..." Riley shook her head, "...doesn't make me feel any better..." Mason scratched his head.

"She may be pretty, dogs," Mullins interrupted, "but she's bad luck aboard this ship. Mark my words!"

She sighed with a shrug, "Ya got me, Mullins. I've come to reap your souls. Excellent eye!"

"You may think this is some voodoo fakin' hogwash now, girly," he growled, spitting over the railing into the brine below, "But you won't be spared from ill luck just cause you're the one who caused it!"

There was a short silence among them, until Mason chuckled, "She wouldn't be bad luck if she were naked," he muttered under his breath.

Riley visibly cringed, "Cool...I'm gonna go now."

"Oh, come on, men."

Jukes approached where the others were gathered, turning to tend to Long Tom as he spoke, "If the Cap'n says she has to stay, then she has just as much right to be here as we do. Ain't fair she should have to take flak for something she got no control over."

Mullins's weathered face scrunched at his young shipmate, "Well, maybe if she were pullin' her weight…"

"It's not my fault the Captain doesn't want me to work," Riley crossed her arms, "Take it up with him..."

The four pirates looked quickly at each other before immediately going back to their previous tasks, and she sighed, "I didn't think so."

The crew went silent as the large double doors of the Captain's quarters creaked open, and Hook emerged. Riley quickly averted her gaze back toward the island, hoping he wouldn't notice she was there but knowing how unlikely that was.

Hook raised a suspicious eyebrow at the crew uncharacteristically hard at the deck with a stoic gaze, he quickly spotted Riley perched at the port bow, her eyes fixed on the Never-isle in the distance. Riley stifled a curse as she heard his heavy footsteps approaching.

"Good morning, Miss Blade."

Riley glanced briefly toward him with a somewhat stiff-lipped smile, "Morning."

She went rigid as he stood silently next to her, hand and hook clasped behind his back as he took in the view as well. She found herself wishing he would either say something or leave. This was like having a teacher lurk silently behind you as you work. She hated being so self conscious...

Finally, he broke the silence, "Smee informed me of your gratitude for the modifications to your attire."

A slightly more genuine smile gracing her features, "Yeah, thanks for that. It's, um...it's a lot more comfortable." She gave a short pause, "I feel a little bad, though. He really didn't have to spend all night working on all that..."

"Think nothing of it, my dear." The Captain winked, something which Riley almost snickered at. Even after not twenty four hours of knowing him, she was certain that winking must have been something Hook rarely if ever did. "The bosun was much obliged, I assure you."

She nodded, turning her head toward him, "Well, thank you."

He noticed the subtle smile show through her eyes and found it pleasing. Though his primary goal had been to keep her content enough to stay with him, her gratitude made him genuinely happy.

"Shall we, my dear?" he offered her a girthy arm, but she hesitated, taking one last look toward the island before feeling a nudge.

Hook smirked, "Lessons in etiquette, rule number one, girl: It is quite rude not to accept a gentleman's arm when he has offered it to you."

Riley briefly scowled before returning the smirk, and accepting his arm as instructed, "Alright! Fine. Lead the way."

She heard his low chuckle as he lead her back toward his cabin, Jukes and Smee entering behind them with silver covered trays. While she appreciated his attempts to compromise, she was still far from trusting the man, but as long as he was remaining cordial, she would cooperate. At least within reason.

They entered the cabin and Riley was surprised at the vast spread on the table. The fruit, bacon, eggs, and toast looked much more appetizing than the meal the night before. She supposed that these things were a bit harder to mess up than a roast.

Hook pulled her chair out, directing her to seat herself with a flourish before sitting across from her next to Short Tom's cage, who clucked happily as he pecked at a kernel. Smee had set up a much smaller table this time, but there seemed to be no less food there than what dinner had provided. The slight bosun served Riley a portion of the spread then the Captain before excusing himself.

Hook took a sip of his wine before clearing his throat, "I regret that we did not proceed on the right foot this past eve, Miss Blade. Make no mistake that I do wish you comfortable during your stay aboard my vessel, and I'm afraid that my goading was far beneath the code of a gentleman."

Riley nibbled on a biscuit before nodding, "It's ok."

"However, said gentleman's code also requires that all my ship's guests and crewmen alike dress according to what is proper."

She caught a few crumbs that missed her mouth in her palm beneath her chin and quickly reached for her napkin. Hook hid a smirk behind his own napkin as she nodded with a furrowed brow, "I, um...ahem...I guess I just forget how different the worlds we come from must be."

Hook gave a small nod, "Aye. Understandable."

"Um...if you don't mind my asking, how long have you been here? In Neverland, I mean?"

He shook his head solemnly, "I've made committed attempts to record the days, but I can no longer keep accurate track. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say somewhere in the vicinity of three years. It was September of 1847 that we were swept here by storm."

Boy do I have news for you, sir... Riley forced a polite smile, "That's quite a vacation."

"Hardly," he took a long draw from his glass, "My men haven't had shore leave in seven months." And I haven't rested in the entirety of our stay, he resolved not to add.

Riley busied herself with the remaining fruit on her plate, hoping she wouldn't end up holed up on this ship for that long. She lifted her glass to take a sip of water and froze in place when a loud and overly cheerful jingle erupted from her end of the table.

Hook looked up from his food with a start, eyes wide at the unusual sound coming from his dinner companion, and Riley nearly slammed her glass back onto the table. "Forgot about that!" And she began rustling through her skirts in search of the offending object. She looked up to see the Captain quite put out, and she cringed, "I am so sorry." She disappeared beneath the table, emerging some seconds later with her phone.

"What by the sword of Saint George?!" Hook looked at the device in her hand as if it were a dead rat.

"Eh...my phone alarm," she waved the phone sheepishly, "It's seven forty five..."

"Are you wearing trousers beneath your skirts?!" he asked crossly.

Riley swallowed the lump in her throat, "I didn't have pockets..."

Hook bristled with a sneer, "This after I sought to compromise with you?!"

Riley shrunk further into her seat, "I didn't think it would be that big a deal. I just-"

"Give me that device," Hook rose from his seat like a viper intent to strike, "Now..."

"What? Wh-why?" She held the phone to her chest, almost considering to stuff it between her cleavage where it would surely be safe from him.

"You may have it back after we are finished here."

"But it's my only possible connection to home!"

Hook's blue eyes darkened, "Are you telling me no?"

She fixed him with an anxious but unwavering glare, preparing to spring from her seat to run if need be. This man was a volcano ready to erupt, and the minimal trust she had placed in her well being was waning.

Hook recognized her intent to run and cursed his anger, deflating slightly, "You will get it back soon," he said as calmly as possible, "But that is a foreign device, and you cannot expect me to let a stowaway keep an alien tool on my ship with no regards as to what it could be used for."

Riley relaxed at his calmer tone, "It's not a weapon if that's what you're thinking..."

"Then might you delight me in describing what it is?"

"It's...a telephone," she realized how unhelpful simplifying the instrument to him would be as Hook turned his head with a sideways glance.

"Do you think me a fool, girl? I may not have observed a telephone in person, but I know that it doesn't look like that."

Riley's complexion reddened, "No not that kind of...it's not..." she sighed, "It would take a lot if explaining."

"Hm!" he nodded, "Perhaps you can do that after I've had the opportunity to examine it."

Riley looked longingly to her only remaining connection to home, "Fine, just...make sure you don't reset it," she handed it over, "I don't want to lose any data."

Hook saved his questions for another time and took it between a thumb and forefinger. Turning to his desk in the corner, he placed it gingerly into a drawer. His cape flared behind him as he turned back to her, "Are there any other contraptions beneath those skirts I should be informed about."

Riley barely muffled a snort of laughter before catching herself and briefly shook her head before remembering the other things she had stuffed in her pockets. "Oh, well, there's a couple of pens...and a sketchbook..."

He made a motion with his remaining hand for her to hand it over, and she bit her lip, reaching as modestly as possible beneath her skirts once again to retrieve the items. It almost pained her even more to part with her sketchbook than it did the phone. She grazed a thumb affectionately over one of the stickers adorning the cover, then handed it to him.

The Captain looked down his nose at the little book with a raised brow and opened it. Riley cringed at the new judgment to come as he scanned the pages. His eyes softened ever so slightly with interest as he turned through a couple of pages before looking back to her, "These are quite good."

Her own eyes brightened with surprise, "...thanks."

He flipped through a few more pages, then snapped the book closed, eyeing her skeptically before handing it back, "You may keep this."

Glancing between him and the book, she finally reached out to take it, relieved when he didn't snatch it away or make to grab her when her hand was within his reach. Hook's expression softened further for only an instant before a rooster's crow broke through the silence, and his countenance twisted into utter rage.

"That foul, pestiferous, CONNIVING little GUTTERSNIPE!"

"Uuuh, pardon?" But Hook was already storming toward the doors.

He turned to point to her sternly, "You will remain in this cabin, my lady, until I come to retrieve you. That's an order; do you understand?" She gave a tentative but agreeing nod, and he shoved the double doors open so hard it was a wonder they didn't splinter against the outside walls.

Riley could hear the screams and jeers of the men outside, and Hook's voice boomed above them all with an only slightly muffled, "Tear the young blighters from their precious skies!" And seconds later, she caught a streak of motion from the corner of her eye outside the window.

As she ran to look, several boys zipped by, all of them flying well above the swell of the sea below, and her mouth gaped. She pushed a window open to a sliver and peaked out. This was no trick. Still in the back of her mind there had been doubt; the inkling thought that this was a bizarre and elaborate prank. The corners of her mouth twisted slowly into a smile. No...

...This was real!


	6. Chapter 6

"Bring Long Tom to bear, Jukes, and scupper that whelp!!" Hook shoved Starkey from his path and practically tossed Smee to the deck on his way to pursue the laughing boy.

"Forsooth!! What is this vile and horrid beast what approacheth?!!" Peter added an exaggerated trill to his words, "En guarde, foul creature! Surrender the lady fair you have so surreptitiously captured!!"

Hook sidestepped the boy's lunge with a snarl, "You're the foul, deceptive creature in this cursed narrative, Pan!!" Peter swiped his dagger, intending to tear through Hook's chest, but the ting of metal against metal rang as the man's claw caught the boy's weapon.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Codfish! I am the gallant and daring knight..." he unlocked his dagger from Hook's grip and soared to stand proudly atop the helm, "...and you are the cruel and beastly dragon!!"

"A dragon, am I?" the Captain purred with a malignant glint, "If I be a dragon, then you, Sir Knight, will be ash by three bells."

"Not before I rescue the maiden," he swept across the Captain again, clanging with his sword, "Are you going to reveal where you've kept her, or will I have to get it out of you the hard way?!"

Hook smirked, voice dripping with sarcasm, "I haven't the faintest notion of which you speak, oh galant knight..."

But Peter caught Hook's lingering glance to his cabin and chortled, "How easy you've made my job, foul beast," he made for the doors but was intercepted by Hook's blade.

"Not so easy as you think, boy..."

Peter returned Hook's sneer before letting out a shrill crow, "Listen, men! The lady fair is in the dragon's very lair!" This got a rise out of the boys, and they made for the Captain's cabin.

"I shall rescue the lady slightly fair, Sir Peter!" Slightly almost butted Nibs out of the way and was first to the door, only to find after a few sharp tugs that it was locked.

"To the windows, men!" Nibs cried, lifting off to come around to the port side of Hook's cabin.

Tootles yelped as he narrowly escaped Mason's grasp and dashed to the cabin window of the starboard side, gasping when he spotted Riley now backing away from the window.

"I've found the lady, Sir Peter!!"

Peter laughed, "It's been fun, oh vile beast, but now I really must be going!"

Hook narrowly missed Peter's boot heals with his blade as the boy made for the starboard window. With a growl he stormed to his cabin doors, hearing a rather colorful word yelled out in Riley's voice and a cacophony of shattering glass just before he splintered the wood around the locking mechanism with a powerful kick.

The sight that beheld him might have given him quite the laugh had he not been so dangerously intent on destroying Pan. Peter and two other boys were tugging at both of Riley's arms from outside the window, only her lower half still inside the cabin and her feet planted against the baseboard to keep her from being yanked out over the open ocean. Hook cursed under his breath and called back to Jukes to be ready with Long Tom for his orders.

"What is this children of the corn BULLSHIT!! Get these dumb kids OFF'A ME?!" Riley was severely outnumbered, but she still managed to remain latched to the window frame. Attempting to ignore the shower of curses pouring from his ward, Hook opened the adjacent window and slashed at Curly with his hook, who released his grip only to be replaced by Slightly.

"That's- erg! no way to talk about your- ugh!!- rescuers, my lady!!" Peter attempted to reason between tugs.

Hook grumbled, abandoning his previous plan and positioned himself behind Riley, "I beg your pardon for the impropriety, miss-"

"JUST HELP ME!!"

Hook wrapped his arms firmly around her middle and pulled, making fair leeway until more boys joined on Peter's side.

Riley attempted to land a kick on the boy, whimpering as her arms felt as if they were being pulled out of their sockets.

With a snarl, Hook finally swiped toward the boys again, all of which relinquished their hold except for Peter, and the three careened back into the cabin, Hook landing on his back against the wood floor, Riley sitting spread eagle rather compromisingly on top of him, and Peter nearly face-planting in front of them.

In Hooks frenzy, he nearly dumped Riley to the floor as he righted himself enough to grab Pan by the scruff of his cape, "You should have paid mind to your own affairs, boy!"

Peter kicked the air as he was lifted off the ground, "You haven't won yet, foul beast!"

"I'll make short work of it, dear, gallant, sir knight," the Captain raised his hook, intent to strike before Peter was swiftly pulled from his grip and out the window.

"Not today, you horrid leviathan!" Peter guffawed with a loud crow, his boys rallying around him, "We'll be back with reinforcements!!"

Hook glowered at the window Peter had disappeared through, a low, droning growl permeating throughout the room. So livid was he, that he didn't even notice Riley attempting and failing to get to her feet from the floor, the hoop skirt caging her legs from getting the proper leverage. She finally gave up, noticing the Captain's stone gaze still at the spot where Peter had gone. She settled for letting him simmer and waiting on him to notice her predicament.

Hook's head snapped in her direction as his keen ears picked up a faint sigh, and his glare softened at the rather pitiful sight of Riley sprawled out on the floor. He, yet again, might have laughed if he hadn't been so angry. And if good form didn't deem it ungentlemanly.

"Apologies, my dear," he leaned to offer his hand, "Had I known the wastrels were aware of your presence, I would have kept my cabin much more well guarded."

Riley staggered to her feet, "They seemed to be under the impression that I was a prisoner..."

"And yet, you chose not to be rescued..." Hook arched an eyebrow, the accusation not lost on him.

"I didn't wanna be dumped into the ocean with giant gators," she shook her hair from out of her face, "And I don't trust your men's aim if I made it into the air, to be honest."

"By Mother McCreedy's bloomers! If'n them boys didn't up an' skedaddle again, Cap'n!" Smee, Mason, and Starkey stood in the frame of the now destroyed wood doors.

"A well informed decision..." Hook uttered under his breath, "Smee! Starkey! If I see one stray crumb littering the floor of this cabin in fifteen minutes, I'll tie your limbs together and keelhaul the pair of ya!! And Mason! I'd better have brand new doors on those hinges by sundown!!"

Smee saluted Hook, his expression so merry, it was as if the Captain had promised him a reward, "Aye aye, sir!" Starkey, on the other hand, eyed the overturned table in disgust, but refrained from commenting. Mason headed below decks immediately.

Hook cleared his throat politely behind a fist while offering her an arm, "Are you alright, my dear?"

She shook her head, taking his offered arm without looking. "I'm fine." Her fingers dug absent-mindedly into her skirt, and she jolted when she felt the now warped boning beneath. "The dress is DEFINITELY totaled, though. No recovering it, I'm afraid."

Hook scoffed, leading her through the shattered doorway, "Nonsense, girl! You've born witness to the bosun's uncanny abilities with a needle and thread."

"But can he repair the cage part?"

He gave a faint chuckle, "That would be a task for Jukes."

Riley snapped her fingers dramatically, "Darn!"

He refrained from rolling his eyes, and lead her to stand on the edge of the ship facing the island where he relinquished her arm. "He can have it finished straight away if you wish to change out of it."

"And have to find my way back into it an extra time? No, thank you."

He shrugged, "Suit yourself, then. Unfortunately, I must tend to business elsewhere on the island. So I shall take my leave until-"

"Wait, you're going to the island?" She turned to face him, "Can I come with?!"

He arched a brow, "On a reconnaissance mission? Out of the question."

"Just let me tag along! I'll stay out of the way!" She shuffled nervously, "I've been cooped up for hours!"

"You would make a poor pirate..."

Riley's mouth hung open in absolute shock, "Would not!"

He smirked, "You will remain on the ship today. Perhaps you may see the island another time..." He watched her sulk. "I shall return before supper."

"Fine...I'm holding you to that trip to shore, though. Soon!"

He gave a shallow bow, "You know me to be a man of my word."

"No, I don't," she curtsied as sarcastically as one could curtsy.

"Cookson will bring your midday meal when the time comes. And do try to stay out of trouble, lest I keelhaul you as well."

Her shoulders slumped, "Trouble's all I've got to look forward to..."

Riley jumped when Hook's hook shot forth, and the curve pressed lightly beneath her chin, "I know that you tend to have a loose tongue, my dear, but do not forget to whom you speak."

Her eyes shifted from him, to the hook beneath her chin and back with an offended scowl, "Jeezus, relax! It was just a joke!" She carefully nudged his hook from her with the tip of a finger, "Lighten up, man..."

Hook stood with a befuddled grimace. Who was this little wench to be emboldened enough to lecture him? The most feared pirate on the Spanish Main AND in Neverland? Had she simply called his bluff?

The girl's expression relaxed into a pensive stare, "It would probably add years to your life."

The two locked eyes for several seconds before he snapped himself out of his bafflement, "You certainly seem to enjoy pressing your, as of late, rather ill luck, my lady."

She leaned against the ship's railing in a way that, despite her ample figure, made her look rather like a young boy in a dress, "You just need to chill."

Something between a laugh and a scoff escaped his throat, a sound that Riley had become accustomed to, "Just mind that tongue, my dear," his voice was calm, but serious, "I should hate for you to lose it."

Riley watched after him as he turned to leave, barking to a few of his men to keep an eye out for Pan's return and a couple others to lower the longboat. What an absolute ass...

He brandished the hook he had threatened her with moments ago, and his impressive form towered over his men as he threatened them with a similar fate.

'I'll bet he's got a nice one, though,' she stifled a laugh as the Captain turned to where he would be able to see her if he only shifted his gaze, 'Could you imagine?!'

~*~*~*~

Riley thanked her lucky stars that Hook had allowed her to keep her sketchbook. After wondering the deck and then going below decks to poke around in an attempt to give herself somewhat of a tour, she had quickly run out of new scenery to take in. So she had quickly settled for finding a cozy barrel positioned behind the bowsprit to rest her back against.

She chewed her pencil, staring at the page as inspiration was having a very hard time finding her. Damn! And she had left her medication at the campsite. This might not be easy...

“I say! Watch where you're swinging that swill, you Grecian boor?!”

Riley noticed three of the men near the hatch to the hull.

“Jou was in MY vay, Starkey!”

“I've had quite enough close encounters with you gruel today, Cookson!” Starkey turned up his prominent nose at the portly man, “And this is a new cape!”

“Lay off it, scugs!” Jukes pushed past the two bickering seamen, pulling a rag from his vest to polish the canon.

Riley rolled her eyes in amusement, 'Idiots...' Her eyes widened, and a cheshire grin crossed her face as inspiration finally struck her. She buried her face back into her book, and began sketching.

She quickly lost track of time, and before she knew it, it had been a good five hours since she had sat down. Jukes's call was what alerted her to the time.

“Cap'n off the port bow, maties!”

She looked out and noticed the Captain in the distance, accompanied by Smee and Mullins, rounding the right side of the island and rowing for the ship. She clapped her sketchbook closed, shoving it into a pocket beneath her skirts and stood, rubbing out the kinks in her back with her knuckles. 'About time...' She wrinkled her nose. Sad how her entire day now was dependent on someone she could hardly stand most of the time.

Hook announced his presence with a loud bellow to raise the longboat, and the four men on deck took their places to welcome him aboard. Riley fidgeted, trying to figure out what to do with her hands in order to look natural.

“Cookson!” Hook's heavy boots had barley thudded against the deck before he began doling out orders, “I want supper in my cabin in ten! Mason?!”

“Aye, Cap'n!” the burly pirate was almost trembling as he saluted, “Your new doors are in place, just as promised!”

Hook's long strides brought him quickly to his cabin doors, which he examined closely, swinging each back and forth on it's hinges, “Hm. Acceptable work... Go below decks with Mullins, and he will brief you on tomorrow's events.” He turned in time to see Riley cautiously approaching near the mainmast.

His hard stare softened if only a bit, “I see that you've somehow managed the day without me...”

“I almost died,” she replied flatly, “But I'm still here.”

“A joy for us both, I'm sure,” he offered her an arm with an amused half-smirk, “Come, let us prepare for supper. I have good news.”

She perked up, “Did you find a way for me to get home?”

He cocked his head toward her. He had almost completely forgotten she was expecting that of him. “Not quite yet. But...ahem...perhaps tomorrow will give us the opportunity,” he fibbed, taking her hand in his and directing her to a seat he pulled out for her at the table.

Cookson quickly brought out a visibly overcooked bird of some sort, Jukes following behind with a few vegetables and bread.

Whatever the poultry was, it was almost jerky right off the bone. Riley's jaw almost ached trying to chew it. "Ya know what? I think I will have some of that wine today..."

The Captain refrained from wrinkling his nose, as she had tucked the chewed wad of meat into her jaw in order to speak. He would have to give her a proper lesson in manners, and soon. He poured her a glass and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she raised her glass to wash the meat wad down, then took another sip in surprise, "Wow! That's good! Usually I hate red wine...too bitter...but this is...really good."

Hook chuckled lightly, "If there's one decent thing about this cursed spit of land, it would be the provisions. Fortunately, neverberry wine is something Cookson has a difficult time mucking up."

She took another long sip, draining the glass, and held it out to be refilled, which he did with a rather skeptical glance.

"So..." she tapped her nails on the side of her glass, “...what were you up to out on the magical island of adventure and...childlike wonder."

"A standard scouting of the area," he answered shortly, taking a bite of his own bird and running into the same chewing issue as she had.

Riley took another sip and was nearly vibrating in her chair as she waited for him to continue.

He swallowed with a barely masked grimace, "Nothing of consequence," he added upon the expectation to continue.

"Did you see anything weird?"

He shifted his jaw, "Weird?"

She shrugged with a small wiggle, "I don't know, anything...interesting," then she sighed, "Come on, I'm dying here...I've been cooped up on the boredom boat for twenty four hours! Need! Input!"

He gave a rather puzzled, sideways look with a shake of his head, "Relatively average fair, I'm afraid."

She sighed again, then took another long swig, draining her glass and once again pushing it towards him to be refilled, "Well, what's the news, then? Go on."

Taking a large gulp of his own wine, he noticed her heightened color and pretended not to notice her request for more, "Ahem...I seem to recall that you wished to take shore leave."

She perked up once again at the mention of shore, "You recall correctly..."

He nodded with a thin smile, "Well...I seem to find myself with an open schedule tomorrow afternoon. And perhaps...a small tour of the island would fill it nicely..."

The smile that spread her own face had to be the most ridiculous looking thing he had seen in a good while. "Yes!" she almost slammed down her empty glass, a few excess drops staining the tablecloth, "What's it like out there?! Are there really mermaids and shit?!"

Hook almost choked on his wine, "Language, young lady!"

"Sorry," She leaned forward, pushing her plate out of the way so she could rest her forearms on the table, "I'm just so stoked!! Like, this is the real deal! Those flying kids this morning?! Like, there are actual mythological creatures out there, right?! Like, no joke, this is for real!!"

Hook's mouth hung open slightly at the rantings of his thoroughly buzzed dinner companion.

"Y'all got chupacabras?! I've always wanted to see a chupacabra...and manticores, they got that weird man face...ya know? Haha! ...man face..."

Hook gave an exasperated laugh, "I think that's quite enough wine for you."

"Sorry," she apologized in a fit of giggles, "I'm really not a drinker, and apparently, I'm no heavyweight," she laid back in her chair, "But seriously...this is just like...my childhood dreams come to life!" She gave a contented sigh, finally pausing her manic tirade. "I wish mama could have seen it..."

Hook's brow furrowed in interest at the mention of her mother, and the sparkle of moisture in her eyes wasn't lost on him. He wondered whether it was the booze or something less superficial.

She had closed her eyes for a few seconds, and he almost thought she had fallen asleep, but he detected a twitch as she gave a subtle wince.

"God, I miss her..."

Hook felt a sudden, sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn't the retaliation of Cookson's fair. One could almost think she was simply speaking of homesickness, but Hook new better, and he felt a tightness in his throat. 

"How long has she been gone?"

Her eyes opened and fixated on his. He had never noticed how dark and intense they were in the dimness of his cabin. "About a year..."

Hook gave a faint sound of affirmation, looking down into his wine glass as he swirled it around in his hand. There were a few more seconds of silence before Riley leaned to rest her arms against the table again.

"I'm sorry I'm kind of a bummer right now... Apparently, I'm a sad drunk..."

He shook his head, "Cease that foolish talk, girl," his words were harsh ones, but there was none of the usual bite to them, "I should like very much to hear about your mother."

Riley smiled sadly, "She was my best friend...I don't know what I would have done without her..." She shook her head, her smile fading as she stared into her plate of dry, half eaten food, "I don't know what I'll DO without her."

Another pregnant pause.

"That never goes away, you know."

She glanced up at him from over her fogged glasses.

"It's always hard without her," he adjusted his cravat, pushing aside his own partially eaten meal, "But she made you who you are. And that's yours forever," he nodded with a tender smile, "Her memory is the most important thing you have, and no poxy, gavel-gutted bastard can take that away from you."

Her jaw trembled, and a stream of tears made their way down her alcohol flushed face. She sniffed shakily, "Damn it! I..." she made a sudden motion to remove her glasses and cover her eyes with a palm.

Hook stood, a look of gentle sympathy crossing his normally stern features, and pulled a handkerchief from a coat pocket, coming to stand next to her.

She tried to hold back sniffles as she whipped the tears with the heels of her hands, "I didn't wanna friggin' CRY, damn it!! What the hell?!" She trembled with a teary scowl, "Look at the weak little girl who can't handle two glasses of wine and cries at the drop of a hat!! Everything makes her pathetic ass sad anymore..."

"Shhh..." he knelt down to come eye level with her, "No, no, dear girl...you are neither weak nor pathetic." If his crew could have heard him speak now, they would swear it couldn't have been his voice, "No one who can stand their ground against the most feared man on the seven seas has any business calling themselves weak."

She sobbed quietly as he wiped her tears with a finger through his handkerchief. She felt the aching need for human contact and shuddered at the familiar sinking realization that the one person who had been there for that was gone.

"I perhaps should have also warned you that neverberry wine is about twice as potent as the average variety."

She sputtered with almost a laugh, "...yeah...that seems *cough* important..."

"My apologies," he gave a faint chuckle, trailing the handkerchief gingerly down her cheek and beneath her chin, "There, there. No more tears?"

She shuttered softly, with a slightly wetter but somewhat more contented smile, and he returned a genuine, even paternal, smile of his own. She couldn't help but notice how much younger it made him look.

"Perhaps later, if you wish, we can talk about our mothers."

She nodded, almost considering hugging him, but her private nature kept her still, "I would like that."

"Excellent..." he stood, and offered her a hand up, "You should rest, my dear. Tomorrow will be an eventful day."

"Thanks..." she stepped toward the cabin doors, turning back one last time, "...night!"

He nodded politely, "Sweet dreams, my lady."

And she was gone.

Captain Hook let out a steady sigh and retrieved his glass of wine, almost collapsing onto the fainting sofa next to the window. Saints, but she was a handful! He found himself smiling to himself at this, and a thought occurred to him...

He liked her.


	7. Chapter 7

The Captain admired the crystal clear reflection in the polished iron of his hook. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, and nothing but adrenaline kept him alert and awake. Come tonight, however, he would sleep as if he had been tucked in by Somnus himself.

He almost tore a hole in the cloth he had been polishing his hook with at the knock on the door, and Short Tom, who had been perched calmly on his shoulder, flapped his wings with an agitated squawk.

"Entrez!" Hook heard the door swing open.

“I realize you have this fixation on me dressed in pink frills…”

He turned to see a somewhat perturbed Riley. "Miss Blade?” He set his handkerchief aside and stood to address her.

“But if I run into another bear wearing this on our picnic today,” she fluffed the heavy ruffles of her skirt and gave a pointed look, “I’m screwed.”

His mouth twitched with the phantom of a smile, “The only wildlife we need concern ourselves with today is that blasted crocodile.”

She arched a brow, “Thanks for the reassurance?”

“She favors the sun in the morning,” he continued, settling Short Tom into his cage, “so our best course of action is to head toward the other side of the island.”

She caught his mischievous gaze too late and barely muffled a yelp as he darted out to grab her hand and twirl her to stand before him, “Or is there some other reason you might feel the need to run?”

Her eyes were wide with surprise, and she gave a nervous laugh, feeling an unwelcome flush in her cheeks. She distracted herself by turning her attention to Short Tom, who continued his shrieks of ‘Belay!’ and ‘Abandon ship!’

Hook tugged gently at the hand in his grasp as she reached fingers in with the intent to scratch Short Tom’s feathers, “Wouldn’t want to loose those, would you, my lady?”

She pulled her fingers away as Tom nipped at a knuckle, “Someone’s a bitey boy...” She risked another scratch to his cheek, and though he made for another peck, he eventually calmed enough to let her stroke his feathers for a moment, still clucking quietly.

Hook let her hand slip from his, a look of near admiration crossing his features as he watched. He released an astonished breath, “I must say, you’re braver than most when it comes to that bird.”

She shrugged, “I have a cat at home. She’s a real butthead sometimes, so I’m used to bites and scratches,” Short Tom nibbled again at a finger, and she gave a gentle tap to the beak before turning back to Hook, “Despite my terrible luck lately with wildlife, I love animals.”

With an amused smirk, he offered his arm and led her out to the deck where Cookson and Mason were readying the longboat. 

"After you, Miss Blade," he supported her hand as she stepped into the boat, and she took the seat second from the back where he had indicated. He turned to Mason and whispered something that Riley strained to hear but couldn't, then with a glance about, bellowed for Smee.

"Aye, Cap'n, I'm a'comin', sir!" Smee scurried toward them from somewhere near the bow, nearly bumping into Hook as he slid to a halt.

He snarled and reached to grab Smee by the shirt, but with a glance toward Riley, he redirected his hand to Smee's shoulder and gave him a gentler light shove. The man stumbled to collapse in a seated position at the front. With an intense nod toward the remaining men on deck, he stepped in to stand at the back directly behind Riley. As soon as they hit the water, Smee began rowing.

Riley's eyes darted along the shoreline as they rowed for the mouth of the bay. She couldn't contain herself from leaning slightly over the side of the boat to get a close look around the bend. There were no signs of anything supernatural yet, but the view -was as incredible as ever. Sunbeams hit the water and scattered into jewels of electric blue, and when she looked straight down, it was so clear she could see a whole world of seaweed and coral between the waves.

He hadn’t bothered taking the time to appreciate the beauty of the island himself, but Hook found joy somehow in watching her take it all in. The spark in her eyes as she spotted something of interest… He remembered long ago when he had had that same passion for discovery, and he wondered if he could have known the same appreciation for the mystic isle had circumstances been different.

“I wouldn’t get so close to the water, if I were you, Miss Blade.”

She had already righted herself to look back at a bemused Hook before she noticed she actually had been leaning over the side of the boat.

Hook tapped a gloved finger on the hilt of his sword and nodded forward, “See those rocks ahead?”

She turned to see the jagged rocks in the distance, many of which formed arches big enough for the longboat to pass through.

“Mermaid Lagoon…” he finally sat to come near eye level with her, “They’re usually about this time of day. Though, they prefer to avoid pirate vessels…particularly ones with me in them.”

Riley glanced beneath the now calm water as they went under the first stone arch. They were much nearer to shore now, but the water still went down at least a good thirty feet, where tall spires and strange reef-like structures wound in and out creating a whole underwater cave system.

“Are we talkin’ about man-eating mermaids?” she asked with a half concerned, half interested look.

“They tend to entertain themselves with much vainer matters,” Hook chuckled with a sideways glance, “But they wouldn’t think twice about drowning a pretty face.”

He noticed the color heighten in her cheeks in the moment before she turned to the bosun with a shrug, “Might wanna hide your face, Mr Smee!”

Smee shrieked, “Bejeepers! I hadn’t t’ought o’ that!” he scrambled to pull the bandana that hung around his neck up over his nose.

Hook choked on what may have been a laugh before quickly composing himself, “Don’t let go of the oars, ya dunderheaded foozler!!”

Riley laughed as Smee reached for the paddle he had dropped, but it was cut short by a sizeable wall of water, the brunt of which hit her square in the face, “Jeez!!” she sputtered and a fit of giggles alerted them to the two mermaids who lurked behind the rock they had just passed.

The Captain snarled, standing and drawing his sword in one motion, “Loathsome sirens!!”

The two mermaids shrieked, still giggling as they dove to their grotto below. Smee tried to splash back at them with a paddle. Hook stopped himself from burying the sword into the side of the longboat, instead puncturing it with his hook as he sat back down hard.

Riley removed her glasses rubbing the saltwater out of her eyes and blinking to try and ease the burn.

“Are you alright?” Hook offered her his handkerchief...for the second time within ten hours, she noted.

“Fine!” she patted her stinging eyes gingerly, fluttering her eyelids with an expression she could feel the unattractiveness of, “Just blind now.”

“Those seductresses rarely provide one with a pleasant encounter…”

She shook the now wet hair out of her face, wringing it out and blinking one last time before putting her glasses back on, “No offence, but I can’t say I expected many pleasant encounters with the locals while touring with pirates.”

“Mm…if the locals are smart, there’ll be no more encounters to speak of.”

Now armed with the knowledge that saltwater to the face was a definite possibility, she was much more cautious about looking directly into the water, especially when she caught a glimpse of fish-like movement between the rocky, coral spires.

“Run her aground on the other side of the headland, Smee,” Hook ordered, “We continue on foot from here.”

Riley craned her neck as they passed through the short tunnel in the narrow protrusion of land and gasped when she spotted several small figures disappear into the trees beyond the beach, “Oo! I saw something!”

Hook scoffed, “And here I thought you had regained your vision some time ago…”

“I mean I saw little people." 'Smartass,' she thought to add.

“Leprechauns, most likely, lass,” Smee nodded, “Run rampant in these parts.”

Hook rolled his eyes at Smee but reasoned that the man was close enough to the truth that he didn’t bother correcting him. The keel cut into the sand, and he stood as Smee jumped out to push the boat onto shore.

Riley’s eyes darted back and forth along the tree line, intent on picking up any other sign of movement, and she nearly jumped when she noticed Hook’s hand in front of her.

He chuckled, “Shall we?”

She accepted his help out of the boat, but he didn’t keep her attention for long.

“Woah! Coconut crab!”

Hook blinked as one second he was helping her out of the boat, and the next she was ten yards away squatted next to a rather large crab, backed slowly away from her. He exhaled in exasperation, again closing the distance between them.

“This guy could probably pinch my fingers off!”

Hook raised an eyebrow at the tone of admiration in her voice and shook his head, “I’m certain it could, but I was under the impression that you were interested in seeing something a tad less common than crustaceans."

"I take in the sights as they come." The crab had backed into a palm tree and begun scaling it, and Riley wobbled as she maneuvered around her skirts to stand. "But if you've got something more interesting, let's see it."

Hook steadied her, "I trust you aren't opposed to a leisurely hike?"

"I'm fine with it, but if we run into a stickerbush, I will show your dress no mercy..."

He simpered, taking her hand delicately in his, "Perhaps I shall have to carry you through the brambles should the time come."

She felt the color rise in her face as she stammered incoherently behind a self conscious titter, then cringed at her own awkwardness as he turned to lead them into the forest.

Luckily, the path they took seemed to have been traversed enough to leave little underbrush, and squeezing her sizeable attire through was no issue. When they came to an obstruction, Hook simply sliced through with either sword or hook with little effort. She kept alert for any unusual sightings, catching glimpses every so often of the twinkling light of a fairy or a rustling in the bushes accompanied by a sound that couldn’t be mistaken for a natural animal. She would stop suddenly as they came to unusual plants or mushrooms to examine them. She took a mental note to pester Hook until she got her phone back so she could get some pictures.

That was when they came to the most gorgeous waterfall Riley had ever seen in her life. The sheer cliff face rose high and water cascaded into sheets of glittering silver that projected vivid rainbows across the pool of clear water.

She came past Hook as they entered the clearing, tilting her head as far back as she could manage to take in the sight. She was barely aware of him coming to stand next to her again.

“Forget-Me-Not Falls,” he said simply with a nod.

Smee, who caught up seconds later, grasped the hilt of the crooked sword at his side, “We best not be dilly-dallyin’ around here fer too long, Cap’n. We don’t want that Forget-Me-Not pixie ta stupefy us.”

Hook gave a dismissive scoff, “Oh, let the girl wander, Smee. No vermicious fairy is a threat to us.”

~*~*~*~

Mullins wiped the sweat from his brow with a miserable groan, “What’d I tell ya about that broad bein’ bad luck, lads… If she hadn’t come along, we wouldn’t be traipsin’ around on dry land.”

“Come off it, Mullins!” Starkey rolled his eyes, “You said she was bad luck on a ship, not on land. Or is your brain so stewed that you can’t keep up with your own superstitions?”

“Just cause we’re off the ship now, don’t mean the damage ain’t already done.”

"Yer grumblin' ain't fixin' it neither, matey," Mason adjusted the heap of rope and netting slung over his shoulder, "'Sides...last I checked, the only dog who's got a problem with dry land is you." He lobbed one of the tangled masses into Mullins's stomach, "Now get ta settin' this trap! If we don't have one in each spot the Cap'n's marked fer us, he'll use 'em as our nooses."

Mullins lurched with a sickening grunt and did all he could to not vomit as he got to work.

"Eez no vorry, Mullins," Cookson took one end of the rope, "My tripe and ginger porridge make you feeling much better."

The pirate almost lost the battle with his stomach at the suggestion, but managed to keep his breakfast down, mostly due to the fact that he didn't want to taste it again.

Jukes, who was now perched in a nearby tree with a spyglass, scouted the area for any sign of outside movement. "Something's in the trees! About fifty fathoms out! Quick, shipmates, quick!!"

They could hear the rowdy yelps and cries from what was unmistakably children and finished rigging the ropes, covered the evidence with leaves and brush, then made to hide. As the yells grew closer, another sound, a guttural roar pierced through the forest, and the men tensed, attempting to flatten themselves as far into their hiding places as possible.

The footsteps of something large echoed louder and just after the Peter Pan and Wendy darted past, Jukes hardly knew a thing when his tree seemed to shatter, and he was thrown to the forest floor, narrowly avoiding the largest of the splinters that speared the earth around him.

As he fought to regain the breath that was knocked out of him, he caught the back side of a massive, rock-like creature disappear again into the trees.

"Jukes!!" Mullins sprung from his hiding place to come to the boy's side, "Talk ta me, lad! Are you alright?!"

Jukes coughed with a painful horseness but nodded, Mullins helping him to his feet.

"Foul troll..." Starkey sneered toward the place they had gone, "...let us hope he chokes on Peter Pan and every one of his wretched brats."

"No time fer bellyachin', lads! We gotta finish the job!" Mason slung the remaining rope back over his shoulder and jerked his head for them to follow.

"I just hope he didn't set off any of the other traps," Jukes rotated his arm in its socket, rubbing his shoulder, "That's all we need for Pan to figure out the Cap'n's plan before it's even hatched."

~*~*~*~

Peter cackled, "Stupid O'look!! There wasn't a chance he was gonna catch up with me!" He spiraled around a large oak and corkscrewed to fly next to Wendy.

"And you! I thought I might have to rescue you a couple of times, Wendy, but you really gave him a run for his money!"

The girl giggled with a rosy-cheeked smile, "Better watch out, Peter...you might have to keep up with ME before long!"

"Oh, will I?" Peter laughed and gave a good natured bump of his shoulder against hers, "Well, let's see who makes it there first!"

Wendy gaped with a half smile as Peter took off ahead of her, "No fair! You've got the map!!" And she disappeared into the trees behind him.

~*~*~*~

“Here will be a suitable place to take our tea,” Hook motioned for Smee to unload their goods, to which he quickly complied.

The meadow they settled in was just as picturesque as the rest of the island was, a rainbow of flora and butterflies, some of which Riley was sure had very human features, speckled the lush, green grass and a sparkling stream trickled calmly next to them.

Smee finished setting out a blanket and their spread, and before Hook could motion to help her, Riley squatted uncomfortably before letting herself fall back on her rear to sit. She thanked her lucky stars that Jukes had not yet repaired her skirt boning, which had been left in a heap in her cabin. She nibbled on her fruit and scones and sipped her tea in contentment, all the while enjoying the scenery.

Hook, however, was paying little mind to his own refreshments, and Riley noticed him scanning the area closely, as if expecting an interruption to their meal. He finally ventured a glance toward her, "I gather that you are enjoying yourself."

She nodded, "It's an upgrade from the vacation I came from, for sure..."

Just beyond the meadow, Wendy and Peter zigzagged through the trees, and as they approached, Wendy gasped, grabbing Peter's cape, "Shh! Peter look!"

Peter floated down with her as he spotted Hook seated in the meadow accompanied by Smee and the woman he had attempted to rescue the previous day.

"It's her!" he whispered beneath his breathe, "Hook still has her."

Wendy cocked her head, "She doesn't seem like a prisoner. She seems...happy..."

Peter muffled a laugh behind a palm, "Don't be silly, Wendy! Who would be happy around ol' Codfish?!"

She shot him a sideways glance, "I seem to remember one instance where a friend of yours preferred Captain Hook's company for a time..."

"And he was up to no good then, so he's certainly up to no good now! Besides, once we find the right magic dust for Tink to get her back home and out of Neverland, we can't have Hook getting in the way."

Wendy nodded, "I suppose you're right... But how are we going to get her away from Hook and Smee? You said she didn't cooperate last time."

Peter puffed out his chest with a proud grin, "Just leave that to-"

There was a loud thud, and a flock of birds erupted from the trees near the opposite end of the meadow. The two children looked at each other wide-eyed, "Oh, no..."

Riley jerked her head toward the cloud of birds that had suddenly taken to the skies with panicked squawks, and Hook twitched, grasping the hilt of his sword.

"Uuuh..." Riley glanced back at him with a look of concern.

"Stay here," he ordered her, getting to his feet, but he had barely taken two steps before a low growl rumbled through the trees.

The Captain drew his sword as the foliage ahead of them swayed and the sound of limbs snapping under massive feet crept nearer. That was when the most gargantuan creature Riley had ever laid eyes on stepped into the meadow clearing. Her mouth hung open as the rock faced thing grunted at the realization of their presence.

"More humans for O'look's dinner!" it grumbled in a gravelly, primal voice.

"Picnic's over!!" Riley got to her feet to run, and Smee retreated to a safer distance as well.

Hook stood his ground. "Come and try it, ya oversized troglodyte..." he growled, brandishing both hook and sword with a fearless glint in his blue eyes.

"Pirates no match for O'look! He be picking teeth with your tiny bones soon!" The beast made to swipe with a massive club he wielded on one gnarly hand jutting out the other clawed appendage as Hook sidestepped it and gashed the monster's wrist with the tip of his hook.

The troll roared in pain, stomping at Hook as if he were no more than an irritating rat. The Captain darted between O'look's feet, nicking an ankle with his sword as he spun around to face him from behind.

The beast grunted at the wound but caught sight of Riley pressed against a tree, and he grumbled with delight, "Maiden make most delicious meal boiled with shallots and squash!"

"Shit-shit-shit!!!" Riley ducked behind her tree and ran into the forest, followed by Smee, who was followed by O'look, who was followed by Hook.

"We've gotta help her, Peter!" Wendy shook his shoulder in a panic.

"I'm way ahead of you, Wendy!" And he took off toward the ensuing chaos.

"Fair afternoon to you, Admiral Anchovy!"

The sprinting Hook did a double take as Peter floated next to him before racing ahead to where O'look was gaining on Smee. The eternal boy laughed, "You would make a magnificent distraction if you tripped right now, bosun."

Smee shrieked, waving Johnny Corkscrew toward the brat, who continued his merriment, "But that would be playing like a pirate, and Peter Pan is NO pirate." He darted ahead to catch up with Riley, who was doing her best to push through the now dense underbrush.

“Hello again, m’lady!” he bowed midair as he swooped in front of her.

“Outta the way, kid!” she shoved a chagrined Peter aside and trudged forward through the snagging branches.

Peter grabbed for her arm, “Hey! What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see I’m trying to rescue you?”

“And I’m trying to rescue myself, but you’re in my WAY!!” She yanked her arm away, and fled for a large, sturdy tree up ahead.

Peter huffed, “Grownups!! Always so stubborn!” Riley had already begun climbing, so Peter instead switched priorities to fending off O’look. He zipped past Smee again, who was making his way to follow Riley up the thick trunk of the chestnut.

"Going somewhere, you stupid troll?!” Peter waved the map he and Wendy had purloined from the monster’s cave only moments ago.

O’look sneered, baring dagger-like teeth, “Give O’look back his property, leetle bug! Or he make stroganoff of you all!”

Peter placed the map in his belt, about to reply, when Hook slashed into O’look’s side from just behind him. The old troll howled, reaching out again with a set of claws. 

Hook deflected the blow, “Why hello, Peter...” he greeted with a malevolent leer, “A fine afternoon for troll hunting, wouldn’t you agree, dear boy?”

Peter gave a courteous nod toward his mortal enemy, “So thrilled that I’ve caught you in such a fine mood today, Captain!” He sprung once more from the ground to join Hook in taking jabs at O’look with his dagger, nicking the troll just before a gigantic hand would come to swat him like a mosquito, and like a mosquito, he would evade at the last second only to repeat the action again.

Riley had finally made it to a height she felt safe at, seating herself on a branch to catch her breath and watch the ensuing fight. As she witnessed the two enemies practically tag-team O’look, she heard a strangled cry from below her and looked down to see poor Smee clinging to the trunk beneath her.

“A wee bit ‘o help ‘ere, missy?” he whimpered pitifully, and she reached down to give him a hand up to climb next to her on her branch.

Smee huffed, catching his breath as well as he removed his spectacles to wipe them with his shirt. Riley peered back to the battle before them to see that O’look was being worn down significantly by the eternal boy and the pirate captain.

She let out a light, breathless laugh, adjusting her own glasses on her nose, “Wow...they actually make a pretty good team when they’ve got something to kill besides each other.”

Smee squinted before placing his spectacles once again over his eyes, “Ehehe! Strange as it is, lass, it seems true, t’be sure.”

With a pained growl, O’look finally retreated back into the woods from whence he came, and Peter bowed low to Hook, “Truly an honor to fight alongside you, Captain Codfish.” Peter was, of course, prepared for the thrust of Hook’s sword, and they locked blades, each wrestling for the upper hand.

Riley had made her way back down the chestnut tree much more quickly than she had scaled it, and as Hook wrenched his sword away from Peter, he called to her, “Don’t move from where you stand, Miss Blade...”

She tilted her head, but halted her next step, and Peter glanced toward her, then back to Hook with a boyish grin and a chuckle. Hook gave one last swipe before Peter ran toward Riley, who timidly took a step backward.

“This is the last day you hold this lady hostage, Codfish!”

Smee had finally found his way back out of the tree, and he unsheathed Johnny Corkscrew to defend Riley from the boy, but Hook’s triumphant smirk foretold the outcome before the trap had even been sprung. Peter yelped as the ropes closed in around him, and he was hoisted above the forest floor only feet from where Riley stood. She had sprung backwards as the trap was activated, and now she looked on in bewilderment as Hook chuckled darkly, coming to admire his catch.

“Oh, dear boy!” Hook shook his head, voice mirthful with barely concealed malice, “When will your childish nobility cease to betray you?”

Riley arched an eyebrow, attempting to decode the situation, when a young girl’s cry could be heard from nearby. Wendy sprung from the bushes, reaching toward the dagger Peter had dropped, but just as she neared it, the rest of the Jolly Roger’s crew, whom Riley hadn’t even known were there, spilled in from the surrounding brush, Mason grabbing Wendy and forcing her into a rope netting similar to what Peter had been snatched from the ground in.

“Ah! Mistress Wendy,” Hook approached the struggling girl, wiping his claw on his handkerchief jauntily, “I’m honored that you’ve chosen to be present on my most immortalized of days.”

The pirates around them chuckled, brandishing swords with bloodthirsty gleams in their eyes, and Hook turned to Riley with a graceful and genuine bow, “I owe you my deepest gratitude, little lady. For had you not assisted me, this most glorious moment may not have come to pass!”

Riley looked in his direction as she passively allowed him to take her hand in his, but her eyes were unfocused as he kissed her knuckles. She turned to look at the children struggling to break free of their bonds, and Mullins slashed at the rope holding Peter in the air. The boy grunted as he landed painfully in the dirt.

“You understand, my dear, do you not?” Hook took her chin in his hand to coax her gaze toward him, “The boy is not the innocent child he appears. You see the girl, Wendy? He stole her from her home. Brought her to this dangerous place without a mother or father to care for her.”

“That’s a LIE, Captain Hoo-“ Mason clasped a hand over Wendy’s mouth, and she squealed in anger.

“You need not worry for the girl,” The Captain’s expression was strangely gentle as he explained, “But the boy must be dealt with so as not to hurt anyone again,” he held out his hooked arm in emphasis of both the boy’s crimes and his fate.

Riley glanced to the ground, shaking her head lightly. This had never been a mere outing in the woods. This whole thing had been a scheme. Not just today, but the entire time she had been aboard the Roger. He had been planning it from the beginning.

She raised her head, swallowing the lump in her throat, “I-I...I understand...” she said with a gentle nod, “You...have business with this boy, and it’s none of mine.”

Hook gave a contented look that appeared sincere, “I had greatly hoped that you would, my dear,” He was about to take her hand again when Billy Jukes emerged from the trees.

“Begin’ yer pardon, Cap’n, but them Lost Boys have already gotten wind of Peter and Wendy’s capture. They’re plannin’ retaliation within the hour!”

Hook tapped the curve of his claw, “Then let us make to intercept them. Mullins, Starkey, and Jukes will accompany me; Cookson, Smee, and Mason will remain here to guard our, ahem...charges,” he smiled adoringly down at Riley, “Miss Blade, I think it best you remain here. There is bound to be another skirmish, and it would be most ill fitting for you to be caught up in two fights in a single afternoon.”

Riley quietly cleared her throat, “Yeah...I’ll, uh...supervise,” she nodded with a nervous smile.

Hook bowed once again, then motioned to his men, “Come, dogs! Let us intercept a Lost Boy.”

Once they had disappeared into the forest, Riley took a slow breath and exhaled steadily, sitting on a knotted root of the large chestnut she had been treed in moments ago.

Mason chuckled, tapping Peter with a dusty boot, “Not so smug now, are ya, half-pint?”

“Ergh! You haven’t won yet, Alf Mason!” Peter said through gritted teeth, squirming against his bonds, "My Lost Boys know Hook’s coming, and he’ll never find them before they take care of you and set us free.”

Cookson snorted with a laugh, “Jou eas going nowhere, Peter ze Pan! Hook do away w’jou faster zan Cookson pluck dead neverbird.”

“What the hell? Did you guys hear that?”

All eyes turned to Riley, who was listening intently for something. The rest listened quietly, exchanging puzzled looks.

“Cookson hear nothing,” the sea chef replied with a furrowed brow.

“No, I’m serious listen...”

They were quiet once again, Smee nearly falling over in an attempt to reach an ear out as far as possible. Then, there was the snap of a twig in the distance.

Mason unsheathed his sword, “Must be them scurvy boys!”

“Aye,” Smee nodded, “It be them brats for sure!”

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” Mason reassured with a nod, but Riley stopped him.

“Wouldn’t it be smarter for all of you to go?” They turned to her once more, “I mean, there are a lot of them, and they really seemed like they could put up a fight yesterday...”

Mason scratched his chin, “Well somebody’s gotta keep an eye on the twerps.”

“I can keep an eye on them,” Riley said quickly with a confident look.

“You?” Mason questioned.

“Jou doesn’t have weapon,” Cookson countered.

Riley’s gaze darted around, and landed on Peter’s discarded dagger. She knelt to pic it up and raised it in suggestion.

Mason eyed her skeptically, “You sure you know how to use that thing?”

She nodded, “My dad taught me. He’s a hunter.”

The men looked to each other.

“I can call if I need you,” she assured, “I’ve got this. Don't worry!”

Mason finally conceded, “Alright, then,” he nodded, “You let us know if trouble finds ya.”

“I will. Definitely.”

And the three men were off into the woods... Riley peered after them, and as soon as they seemed to be out of earshot, she took the dagger to Peter’s ropes.

“What are you doing?” Peter startled at the blade so near his side.

“Rescuing you, duh...”

“But you said-“

“I lied!” she cut Wendy off, “Sometimes adults do that.”

Peter chuckled, “I guess not all adults are as stupid as I thought.”

Riley rolled her eyes, “Thanks...”

“You’re welcome!” Peter shook off the last bit of rope, snatching the dagger from her before she could react and cutting Wendy free.

“I’m gonna need to get outta here,” she began unlacing her bodice, “I suggest you two do the same.”

“Why are you taking off your dress,” Wendy questioned innocently.

“Because there’s no way I’ll be able to run in it,” she quickly shed her pink dress and corset leaving the petticoat, the skirt of which she tucked into the waist of her bloomers. She was about to leave before Peter tugged at her sleeve.

“Wait! We have to get you out of here!”

“That’s what I’m-“

“No, I mean out of Neverland!” he explained, “You have to go back home!”

“You can get me there?” She raised an eyebrow.

Peter and Wendy looked at each other. "We’re...sort of working on that...” Wendy said, “We need a special kind of dust...found in only a certain place.”

“And we have the map to find it!” Peter held up the scrap of parchment.

“Then spill the directions! I need to get home before my friends declare me dead!”

“It’s not that simple...” Wendy shook her head, “See...the location moves.”

“Moves?”

Peter grabbed the hands of both girls and tugged, “Come on! We need to get outta here before the pirates get back! We can explain on the way!”

They retreated into the woods in the opposite direction from where the pirates had gone.

~*~*~*~

Hook had searched the forest but found no trace of a Lost Boy. Perhaps it was best to head back. They would be prepared to face the boys when the time came, and they would certainly be no match for him and his men without Peter to lead them. Without there leader, they were nothing more than lost little children.

Just as he was about to give the order for his men to head back for the others, he halted. He motioned for his men to keep quiet as he drew back his sword.

As the bushes in front of them began to shake, he almost lashed out before Smee’s fuzzy face appeared in front of them with a delighted “Cap’n!”

Hook narrowed his eyes, mouth agape, “Smee?! What the devil are you doing here?!”

Mason And Cookson appeared behind him as the bosun stuttered to explain their plight. As Smee wove his nearly incoherent tale excitedly, Hook’s eyes focused in angered realization, “You left Peter and Wendy alone?!”

Smee shook his head heatedly, “Oh, no no, Cap’n, sir! We certainly wasn’t foolish enough to do some’n like that! No no! We left ‘em wit the lassy!”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Mason affirmed, “She said she would call if she had any trouble.”

Hook boiled for a moment, before lifting Mason from his feet, “You dunderheaded zounderkite!! Do you expect to hear a call of distress this far out?!!”

He tossed the man to the ground, dragging his cape over him as he passed, “Move, ya worthless mongrels! If those brats have escaped, I’ll have Cookson stew every one of your livers and then his own!” Cookson gulped before following their irate Captain.

Hook’s breath came in heavy heaves as he neared the chestnut tree where his prize catch had been left. His men stumbled to keep up with the all but rampaging man, and all of them held their own breaths as they came within sight of the tree.

Hook snarled when he saw the two tattered and very empty rope nets, his eyes darting over the scene for any sign of his enemy. And that was when he saw it. Riley’s discarded dress in a heap on the dirt ground. Hook’s face contorted into a scowl as his mind pieced together what had happened. His whole body shuddered like a tremor before a volcanic eruption, and he unloosed a roar of absolute fury.

~*~*~*~

Riley trudged through the woods alone, having agreed to meet Peter that night in a secluded area after he had found the dust they needed to send her back. She had suggested she go with them now, but despite her rescue, Peter still didn’t trust her enough to reveal where their Underground House was to her, and they had decided to part ways until they were prepared to send her home.

She fumed as she finally had the time to dwell on what had happened. He had used her. Pretended to be her friend only to make her bait. She flushed with embarrassment at how stupid she had been to trust him. She had even started to like him. What an idiot she had been!

That was when she heard the cry of rage, and she froze, distinctly recognized it as Hook’s.

“Fffffudge!!” She sped up her pace, anger turning to fear as she heard him coming all too close behind her. She searched feverishly for a place to hide, at last finding a large tree trunk to duck behind.

“Find her, scugs!! Or I’ll set anchor in ya!!”

Riley heard the men scatter, pressing close to the tree as they each disappeared into their own wing of the forest. Hook’s heavy footsteps, however, grew closer, and Riley held a hand over her mouth to silence her breathing.

“Riiileyyy...” he purred, the noticeable edge to his calm voice giving away his anger, “I know what you’ve done, young lady... Come out! And I swear upon my dearly departed mother’s grave, I shan’t hurt you.” 

He came to stand just on the other side of the log, and she willed her heart to stop it’s rapid beating.

“You don’t know what a glaring error you’ve made, dear girl,” he rumbled, “I don’t want to punish you. But if you don’t show yourself, I shall have to.”

His footsteps receded, and Riley shifted her position only slightly. She came to regret it sorely as a tiny squeal emitted from behind her, “Watch where you’re sitting, you clumsy oaf!!”

Her heart stopped as Hook’s footsteps did as well, and a small, curly-headed fairy fluttered to wag a finger in her face, “I didn’t come here to get stuck under your GIANT, HUMAN A-“

Riley grabbed the fairy, covering her mouth with a hand, shaking her head wildly and motioning for her to be quiet, but all she got was a surprisingly painful bite.

“Miss Blade...”

A shiver ran up her spine at the purr of her name, and she looked up to see a leering Hook crouching from the other side of the tree. She had little time to think, so she made her move without doing so. She chucked the fairy into the Captain’s face, a poof of sparkling dust blinding him and sending him into a sneezing fit as she got to her feet and ran.

She heard his displeased snarl and his footsteps as he perused her, and she pushed her legs to go as fast as physically possible. She knew she was probably faster, but she prayed that adrenaline would aid her in out-enduring him. She tore through a thicket, gritting her teeth at the scratches and forcing her significantly thinned out skirts through them only to come to a nearly shear drop into a creek. Thick brambles crowded at either side, and she was certain to be caught now if she went that way.

The shing of metal alerted her to Hook’s arrival as he made quick work of the brush she had just exited, and his bright eyes bore into her, “Ungrateful little wench!”

Riley turned an equally angered gaze toward him, “Ungrateful?! Are you KIDDING me?! You used me! And I can’t believe I fell for it!!” She backed nearer to the bank as he edged closer, “I knew you were a liar from the beginning! And somehow you still cheated my dumb ass,” she clapped her hands sarcastically in mock applause, “Greaaaat job! Hope you’re proud of yourself, but you still lost!!”

The Captain growled, “Lost because of YOU! Spiteful MINX!” He sprung forward, intent on grabbing her, and without a thought, she slid herself down the muddy bank and into the creek.

She paddled to keep her head above water. The current was strong, but not so strong she couldn’t make her way across. She could see that the other side was steep and muddy but also a shallower drop than the one she had come from. If she could make it up, her escape would be certain. She paddled until her arms burned but eventually made it across and clawed into the mud, gaining leverage to lift herself up. The mud was just the right consistency to dig divots for her hands and feet to climb up.

She was more than halfway up the slope when her ankle was grabbed in a painful grip. She looked down into the enraged face of Captain Hook, hair wild in loose, wet ringlets.

“You shouldn’t have run from me, Riley! You’ll be lucky if you get no more than three nights in the brig with naught but bread and water!!”

She thrashed her leg as forcefully as she could with out losing her grip, “Let GO of me!” she kicked wildly, then turned her scowl down to him, "You bastard! I can't believe I ever even LIKED you!!" her voice cracked as tears were now streaming down her face, and Hook's enraged expression wavered, "I cried to you about my MOTHER!! I actually thought you had CARED! But all you were doing this whole time was making me feel secure so you could USE me! Well you’ve gotten your use out of me! So STEP! OFF!!”

And she landed a powerful kick square to his chest with her free leg, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sliding back down the muddy bank. She scrambled to reach the top, and pulled herself onto the grass, hearing his cries of anger behind her.

But she stopped only a few yards from the bank when his cries turned to panicked yelps, and she could hear a hissing roar. The Croc...

She danced on her feet. She should keep going. She knew she should just keep going. But her legs wouldn't move. She couldn't. She was angry. LIVID. But she couldn't leave him to die like this. She growled in frustration, “FINE!”

Hook tried to right himself on the slippery bank, attempting to evade the monstrous creature of his most chilling of nightmares. "BACK! You ghastly leviathan! Go back to the sewage from whence ye CAME!!"

The prehistoric lizard was only all the more frenzied in her ambition to devour as she nearly snagged a kicking boot in her vice like jaws, managing to rake a gash across his calf with the largest of her piercing fangs, and he cried out in anguish and fear.

That was when he felt something relatively weighty strike his shoulder, and looked to see a sturdy vine hanging next to him. He followed the vine up the bank too see a muddy, disheveled Riley.

"Miss Blade?!!"

"JUST GRAB IT!!" she cried, shaking the vine to bump against him again, and he did so without further hesitation.

Riley tugged on the pulley she had rigged around a nearby tree, and Hook dug his heels into the muddy bank, slipping several times but finally making it to pull himself up onto the grassy knoll and away from the snapping croc.

Both collapsed only feet apart from each other, panting to inhale as much oxygen as their lungs could hold. Riley jumped when Hook jabbed his sword into the ground, using the blade as leverage to stand, and she shuffled away before assuming a defensive position on her feet.

Hook scrutinizes her with stern eyes, and they stared each other down. When his expression finally softened oh so slightly, her muscles relaxed a touch, and she opened her mouth to say something before the rest of Hook's crew emerged from the bushes, swords drawn in her direction.

She froze again, and with a glance around, raised her arms in defeat.

"Crap..."


	8. Chapter 8

Their short standoff seemed an eternity. Captain Hook’s eyes shifted quickly around his men as he straightened himself and replaced his soaked hat upon his equally damp head. Forcefully shaking off his apprehension, he finally spoke, “Escort the lady back to the Roger, lads.” He didn’t allow time for protests, though Mullins was visibly bursting to say something.

The trek back to the ship was silent. Whether because of the now setting sun or simply the ominous vibe of their funeral march, there were no signs of life through the still forest. Hook himself showed little emotion, not even speaking to order the longboat shoved off to sea, which the crew was surprisingly stealthy in doing without prompting.

It wasn’t until they had boarded the Jolly Roger that Hook turned to Mason.

“The brig” was all he said before turning from them and toward his cabin. Riley scowled at the Captain’s back before Mason took her arm to led her below decks.

They ventured deeper into the ship than she had ever been before, and Mason finally stopped in front of a particularly sturdy and rather imposing door. Producing a key, he unlocked it, and though his gaze was stern, there was a trace of pity as he guided her inside and closed her in.

She was stock still for several seconds in the pitch blackness, the smell of salt and mildew wafting into her nose. She scooted her feet forward so as not to trip on anything, finding that the wood floor was covered in straw. She quietly kneeled to push it around and create as comfortable a sleeping spot as possible.

As she lie in the dark, the reality of her situation overtook her. Her friends, her family… There had always been the possibility she may never see them again, but now…

Her jaw quivered, but she refused to cry. So instead of crying, she got angry. Shooting up from her nest, she whirled around to the wall she knew was there and punched it. It made a loud thud, and she heard a couple of her knuckles pop as the wood scraped her fist. It hurt, but she didn’t care.

She dropped back to her side hard, paying no mind to the straw that scratched at her cheek. Tears seeped through scrunched, scowling eyes, and she bit hard on the inside of her jaw.

Several minutes of seething, and she was finally worn down enough to fall into a light and uncomfortable sleep. And that was how she spent the night; filthy and bruised on the damp, straw covered floor of the brig.

Six times Riley awoke during the night, finally rising the seventh and final time to a terrible ache in her legs and spine. Her limbs screamed when she pulled herself up to a sitting position. She wished sorely she could go back to sleep but also dreaded the next time she would have to sleep on that floor. The morning light seeped through the cracks in the door, and she instinctively scuffled with one hand for her glasses before remembering they were gone. The night had been miserable, but she had no hopes the day would be better.

Getting to her feet, she stretched out the aches and rubbed her sore spine. The waves crashed against the ship's hull, further reminding her how deep beneath the deck she was. Her eyes darted around the large, barely lit room, and she winced as she saw just how moldy the straw she had been lying in was. The only furnishings to speak of were two old barrels set in the corner. Perhaps she could push some straw against them to at least elevate her head a little the next night. That was assuming she would be there that night.

Thoughts of Hook slowly materialized through the fog of her sleep deprived mind. Punishments on a pirate ship could be quite creative, and Riley didn't want to think of what he might have in store for her. The fear of her fate, however, still didn’t surpass the anger at her situation, and with consciousness it came back to her full force. What kind of weak-willed pushover did he take her for?

‘A stupid one, probably.’ And it hit her what an idiot she must have seemed to trust him as easily as she had.

Why had she? In truth, she had known the conniving sort of man he was since childhood. As just a little girl, he had fascinated her. As an adult, she could even relate to him. But she had known his dishonest manipulative nature from the beginning. Everyone did. And she had forgotten. He was the villain.

She buried her head in an arm against the wall. ‘I’m such an idiot…’

She was only left to stew in self loathing for a couple of minutes before footsteps could be heard outside the cell, then the mumble of voices. She whirled around in surprise at the scrape against the door as the plank that bared it was removed, allowing it to creak open. Billy Jukes stood in the doorway, a bowl resting between his forearm and chest and a wooden mug in his free hand. Behind him, Alf Mason stood guard.

Riley watched through squinted eyes as Jukes greeted her with a nod.

"Uh...brought ya some breakfast here, Miss Blade..."

She fixed him with a calculating look before nodding, and he cautiously stepped in, placing a bowl of what looked like spackling paste and a mug of water on the floor, then turned to leave.

“Is it poisoned?”

The boy flinched before looking over his shoulder sheepishly, “No…well, I suppose it depends on what ya count as “poisoned” but…” he faced her, scratching the back of his head.

“No more poisoned’n the swill we’re all eatin’,” Mason grunted from the door.

She gave a short breath of humorless laughter and nodded, “Guess we’ll see, then…”

Jukes returned a nervous laugh of his own and gave something between a nod and a bow as he backed toward the door. “Smee’ll be around shortly with soap and water and some new clothes.”

She thought to ask if they knew what Hook had in store for her but hesitated, and before she could change her mind, the door was closed and the two had gone.

She had to keep herself from downing the entire mug of water, as she knew she would need it to get the…porridge, she assumed, down. The slop was unpleasantly but thankfully tasteless, and it wasn’t long after she had managed to finish it off that Smee arrived, again accompanied by Mason..

"G’mornin’, lass..." he nodded gently, and Riley didn't have the heart to refuse him at least a faint smile.

He entered the room, holding up the supplies to her, "Brought yeh some rags teh wash up with an' a change a' clothes."

Mason set a small bucket of water down just inside the door before standing guard once again, and she couldn't help feeling just a little flattered that Hook thought her enough of a threat to send his strongest man to guard the door every time it was opened. Good! She hoped he saw her as a threat. That would teach him to assume she was weak. However, after some reconsideration, she realized what that really meant for her ability to escape. 

As Mason locked the door again, Riley was happier than she had imagined she would be to clean up. The bucket was just big enough for her to dip her head into and rub out the crusted chunks of dirt. Being clean would at least help a little in getting better sleep that night.

As the mud caked petticoat flopped to the ground, she spotted her sketchbook, which had been dislodged from where she had tucked it into her bloomers, and with a brief look of horror, she scrambled to retrieve it. Sitting on her knees, she thumbed through the damp pages and sighed with relief when she saw that though the pages were soaked, most of the drawings were at least still recognizable. Rigging the string from her petticoat between the two barrels in the corner, she hung the book to dry, then removed her remaining clothes and began washing herself. She eyed the door as she scrubbed. Someone could easily come in while she was undressed, but after thinking on it, she realized she honestly couldn’t be bothered to care.

Finally relatively clean, she lifted the off-white shift over her head and was pleased to find it about as plain as it could be, not even a bit of pleating around the shoulders or lace along the collar. Hook probably intended to give her the shabbiest garment he could find.

'Joke's on you, old man...' she thought with a smirk, '...it's comfy too...'

Her happiness was brief, however, as minutes turned to hours. She had checked her sketchbook about eleven times to see if it had dried, but the pages were still damp. She had managed to get a few more minutes of sleep, having piled some straw against a barrel and covering it with the towel she had used to dry herself. Lunch and supper were served to her just as the meal that morning, both the same grey, tasteless goop, and after the last bit of light receded once again, it was clear she would indeed be staying another night in the musty brig.

She sighed as her thoughts returned again to her friends…her family. At the thought of how worried her dad and sister must be, she again had to choke back tears. Surely they were searching for her by now. She tried to banish the thought from her mind but lied awake for some time before she drifted off once again.

~*~*~*~

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me, Hook!!”

He heard the boy’s goading, but Peter had been at it for so long, it was becoming nothing more than an irritating buzzing in his ears.

“Oh, fine, Codfish! That’s fine! I can wait all night long. I can wait VERY LOUDLY!!!”

Hook whirled around, blocking the dagger Peter had aimed at him with a light flick of his sword. The boy was thrown to the ground with the force of the blow, and in the time it took to regain his composure, Hook had locked himself in his cabin. Peter pouted for a moment before throwing himself at the double doors with a rattling thud. The Captain gnashed his teeth as the youth continued his racket.

“You can’t keep her locked up forever!! If I have to build an army, I WILL!!! The Indians! The fairies! All of Neverland will help me!!”

Pan’s frenzied cries became background noise to his numbed mind as he lie facing the ceiling. He vaguely heard his men move to reprimand the brat, and he hadn’t registered that he was almost asleep until the beating at his door returned and the scuffle outside repeated itself.

Long into the night, he would be jostled awake by Peter’s insipid pestering, until finally at four in the morning the boy left out of boredom.

At the morning bell less than two hours later, he awoke without opening his eyes. He had never required much sleep, at least, this is what he believed, despite Mr. Smee’s nagging when he found out about the previous night’s lack thereof. Tonight, however, he found himself agreeing with the chiding voice of the bosun in his head, and it took all of the masterful control he so prided himself on to get up.

He winced at the dull throbbing in his temples when he finally forced himself to sit up. It took him twice the length of his normally quick morning toilet to make himself presentable, fighting the pain in his skull as he sluggishly pulled on each article of clothing.

“Ring that blasted bell, once more, Mr. Smee, and I’ll ring your head…” The man’s order was devoid of emotion, but Smee quickly silenced the bell as if it had been roared to him.

The Captain quite honestly had a mind to throttle anyone who came within immediate sight of him, but he hadn’t the energy to carry it out. Certainly, Pan had much, if not, all to do with his lack of sleep, but the real drain was mental.

It was that girl…

He cursed his weakness. Hell’s bells, but it was infuriating! SHE was infuriating! Disregarding his genteel hospitality in one second, then confiding in him the next. Betraying him in, what was to him, the worst way possible, then rescuing him from a horrific fate right after. Never had he been so conflicted over a person.

By all means, the offense she had committed called for execution. It’s what he would have done with any of his men had they done the same. She had committed the ultimate treason. Should she not pay?

Ending a woman’s life was not something he had ever taken joy in. Despite the rarity, he had done it before. It was usually done by either poisoning or drowning, except only by the cruelest of brigands who had no softness in their hearts for the fairer sex. And it had not yet happened while he was captain. That was, not including the few attempts on Wendy for the sake of destroying Peter Pan. All the same, her gender didn’t exclude her from being brought to justice. 

But something did. Something stopped him. He was angry with her. Livid, if he was honest. But the thought of destroying her…it made his stomach churn. And the more he examined the reaction, the more he realized it had nothing to do with his own lenient but firm moral code. It was almost exclusively selfish in nature.

‘I like her.’

It had been true then, and it was true now. He couldn’t turn the hatred he so often weaponized against his adversaries onto her, and the more he was left to dwell on the thought, the less he wanted to. It was entirely alien to him to be so cross with someone and not wish them ill will. Always certain in his decisions, he rarely questioning his own actions or feelings, and he came to realize that he hated this new dichotomy. Had he the energy, he would have punched something, human or inanimate, he didn’t care which.

And that was when Jukes alerted them of the approaching Lost Boys in the distance. Hook gripped the railing almost hard enough to leave imprints, but the usual rush of adrenaline never came. He was absolutely incensed, and he didn’t even have the will to turn his fury toward the people he hated the most.

He gave a light motion of his hook to fire Long Tom, preparing himself to sham his way through this oncoming encounter.

~*~*~*~

The next day in the brig came and went much the same as her last. Riley’s sketchbook had finally dried, the paper now wrinkled and the images smudged but still intact enough to remain in use, and most of her time was spent drawing. She was doing just that in between forcing gobs of her supper down when Smee, Jukes, and Mason returned.

“Just over there, lads, come on…” Smee directed the men to a corner, and they hauled the cot they carried between them in.

Riley cocked her head, “Is the Captain going soft, or is he just allowing me a more restful night before my execution tomorrow?”

“We don’t ask questions, missy, just carry out orders,” Mason replied.

She shrugged, “So…is the order of my death yet to be carried out, or…”

The three looked to one another.

“Cap’n ain’t said much on that matter,” Jukes answered gently, “Ain’t said much at all.”

“Ain’t no man jack aboard dares ta ask, neither…” Mason added, “Not after Mullins got a month of barnacle scrapin’ duty fer it.”

“Not to worry, lassy. If’n he’d planned on executin’ yeh, he’d’a done it by now.” Smee reassured, “‘E’s just a wee bit outta sorts as o’ late …”

“Outta sorts?” Riley questioned.

“Well, ‘e’s just..I suppose he’s a bit…”

“Quieter than usual,” Jukes continued.

“And not in a good way…” Mason added, “The ol’ man’s broodin’ up a storm. Real eerie like. Gives me the willies!”

Smee shook a scrawny finger toward Mason, “Now don’t yeh be a’besmirchin’ the Cap’n, Alf Mason! ‘E just ain’t ‘imself at the moment… I don’t think the poor man slept a wink last night.”

Riley scoffed, “Oh, poor him…”

Smee nodded, not catching the blatant sarcasm, “Speakin’a which, I aughta be gettin’ ‘im some clean sheets. You boyos best come along and see if ‘e be needin’ yeh for anythin’ else.”

~*~*~*~

Sleeping was much more bearable that night. She had been dozing a good three hours before she was jostled wide awake by a soft scraping and a quiet thud outside. There were seconds of silence before the soft thumps of heavily booted feet tread as lightly as they could away from her cell. Quietly, Riley rose from her cot and approached the door, virtually soundless as she reached for the door to find it already cracked open a sliver. She was free?

She peeked outside to find the corridor empty and stepped outside.

~*~*~*~

Hook let the hatch down slowly before treading lightly back to his cabin. His hand was almost touching the door when the hatch behind him creaked open again, and it instinctively redirected to the hilt of his sword. The lantern light from below projected a rising figure onto the doors in front of him. Both figures remained still as statues for many seconds, Hook not having to turn to know that Riley stood in the hatchway behind him.

“You freed me?”

Riley’s voice cut through the dark silence, and Hook lowered his head before turning slowly to face her. The light from below illuminating her face and the breeze whipping softly through her hair and shift made her look like a ghostly apparition.

Hook retained a cold visage, “An even trade…you spared my life, I spare yours. The way I see it, that would make us square,” he turned back toward the cabin door, “Now off with you…I do have pressing matters to attend to…”

But he didn’t move. Seconds more and his feet didn’t budge, nor did Riley’s.

“You expect a visually impaired person to traverse croc infested waters in the middle of the night?”

Hook jerked his head over his shoulder before coming to face her fully with the shake of his head and a silent chuckle, “Cheeky to the end, aren’t we?”

She gave a curt shrug, before nodding toward his cabin, “You’ve still got my stuff, ya know…”

He raised a brow, “I had hoped you would cut your losses…”

“You imprison me, then you steal from me?” she ascended the remaining steps and stepped onto the deck, “Typical pirate move…”

“And an acute judge of character…what a delight,” there was a phantom of a smile in his voice. He turned back to his door, snagging the ring pull, and for a moment Riley thought he was leaving. He opened the door and stood aside in a motion for her to enter.

She hesitated.

“You can still leave...” he reassured, gesturing to his right.

There at the railing she saw that the longboat had already been lowered for her. She fixed him with a calculating, though not unfriendly look before following him into the cabin.

Riley didn’t wait to be prompted before she made herself comfortable on the sofa, doing a double take as Hook poured the tea that had been on the table in front of her, “Always tea time…”

The corner of Hook’s mouth curled, and it was then she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, “If you knew the hell I’ve been forced through in the past forty eight hours, Saints preserve me…and on your account, no less…”

She leaned back, draping her arms across the backrest of the sofa, “Excuse me if I don’t have the energy to look sorry for you.”

Hook looked perturbed for a moment before weary acceptance overtook his features, sighing heavily and rolling his eyes as he handed her a cup and saucer and taking his own seat, “Even after my abundant hospitality, you’ve sided with my mortal enemy.”

“I think the past couple nights in the brig cancels out most of that “hospitality”,” she took a long swig from her cup, “He’s been more helpful than you…”

Hook sputtered with an offended scoff, “More helpful?! Oh! I suppose free room and board means little on an island beset with all manner of accursed creature.”

“He’s trying to get me home…” she scowled, “All you did was use me for your own sick...child murdering purposes.”

“Murder?! Hardly!!” Hook countered with an exasperated chuckle, “Murder would imply a situation significantly more one sided.” 

Riley shook her head with a shrug, “Look, I honestly couldn’t care less what kind of pissing match you two are caught up in, just don’t waste MY time with it. I have people back home who probably think I’m dead! My only priority is getting back. And if you can’t make that happen for me, I’m gonna find someone who can.”

The jealousy that regularly plagued him when it came to Peter Pan nettled him. At least, that was what he attributed the tightness in his chest to at the moment. Surely if the brat could find a way home for her, he should have no trouble, the very least, at prying the solution from one of his Lost Boys. He quickly wracked his brain for a way to repair the damage and convince her of this.

“I cannot deny my lack of promptness in returning you to whence you came. Truthfully, I don’t have the answer, not within immediate reach,” he knit his brows together, taking a regretful sip from his cup, “But to be quite frank, my dear, I don’t believe Pan and his…ahem, companions truly have one either.”

Riley had downed the rest of the tea and placed her cup and saucer upon the table, “You’d say that.”

He gave a huff of laughter, “I’m not trying to bluff you, Miss Blade. I’ve been on the island since the offense you so boldly committed against me. They’ve been looking for something with no manner of luck thus far. Whatever this miraculous solution may be, it’s either nonexistent or much too elusive to be retrieved by mere children.” She gave a subtle squint as he finished his own tea, “Rest assured, Peter Pan will tire of this farce, as he does of any game he finds himself incapable of winning.

“And when that inevitability occurs, you shall have no one to turn to but me.”

Riley’s nose wrinkled with a prolonged sideways glance, “Why would this be so important to you if you didn’t have something else up your sleeve.”

“If I had something else up my sleeve, why would I have risked your departure?”

“Maybe because you’re a manipulative son of a bitch, and you knew I’d confront you?”

Hook’s face elongated in surprise before he burst into unexpected laughter. Riley’s mouth twitched as she attempted to refuse a smile. Captain Hook’s laughter when malicious was dark and terrifying, but the sound he was making right now was perhaps the geekiest guffaw she had ever heard.

“You really are the most reckless-hahahaaa!!” he attempted to calm his cackling, “…brash and foul-mouthed woman I’ve had the pleasure of meeting!”

Riley folded her arms, “You seem to bring that kind of behavior out in me…”

Hook finally gained control of his laughter, “And stab me...but for all the grief you’ve given me, I find myself growing continually fonder of you.”

She shrugged sheepishly as an unwanted flush rose to her face. Damn this man and his uncanny ability to make her flustered.

The gravity of what Hook had admitted finally sunk in, and he cleared his throat, raising his head, “Why should I allow my enemy to waste your time with a fantasy when I could save you the trouble by attempting to find the truth?”

“So this is still about Pan?” She didn’t give him time to counter her, “Alright, I’ll humor you, but on several conditions…”

Hook smirked, “Oh? Precisely how many…’conditions’, as you so eloquently propose it?”

“We’ll count as we go, how’s that?”

Hook’s smirk spread with a light chuckle, “As you wish.”

“One, no more lies! If it involves me in any way, I know about it.” She scowled at his polite nod, “And that covers twisting the truth and lying by omission, so don’t try.”

He placed a hand over his chest in a hyperbolic gesture, “Madam, I would never!”

She whipped an accusing finger in his direction with a short pause before extending a second, “Two, no keeping Pan from what he’s searching for.”

He stuttered with a scoff, “I assure you, I can-“

“I’m keeping my options OPEN, and you don’t even have a lead yet, so as of now, he’s ahead of you.”

Hook’s jaw hung open in an attempt to find the words to argue, but there were none, so he had no choice but to allow her to continue.

“And three, I wear what I want. Full stop.”

The Captain finally closed his mouth with a smile and reached next to his chair. He presented Riley with her old clothes, freshly cleaned and neatly folded. As she reached for them, his hand covered hers, and she was about to pull away.

“But might I make a suggestion?”

She raised a questioning eyebrow, and he released his grip in her to remove the teacups from the trunk they rested on. Riley’s eyes narrowed as he lifted the lid, then brightened in interest at the contents.

“If you still wish to keep busy during your stay, you may require something more functional.”

She nodded her approval, already having spotted some interesting pieces within the piles if fabric.

“And in light of the loss of your glasses, I’ve retrieved some old ones from Smee,” he handed her a pair of round framed spectacles, “Let us hope you’re half as blind as he is…”

She put the glasses on and was surprised how close to her prescription they were, “Well, whatta ya know? Apparently I am…” she adjusted them on her nose, “What do you think? Do I look like a complete dingus?”

“Well…” he feigned a skeptical look of appraisal, “…not so much as Smee does, I suppose.”

“Wow, thanks,” she replied flatly before digging into the chest of clothing.

Hook was relieved to see her pick out a pair of full length trousers. He had seen how some of the men, particularly Mason, ogled her in her dress. He didn’t like the thought at all of her out on deck in the skimpy things she had arrived here in. Even so, the ones she had chosen concerned him in how form fitting he knew they would be on her, and he caught himself thanking Zeus he had never had to deal with having a daughter.

After she had picked out what she wanted, he walked her back to her old room, promising her as excellent a meal as Cookson’s limited skills were capable of come the morning.

As he rounded the rail to return to his cabin, a crow shattered the silence of the night. Hook turned to his enemy, the sneer on his face made more ghastly by the dark circles under his eyes.

“Pan…come to see your old friend again?”


	9. Chapter 9

Tootles’s feet nearly dragged the forest floor as he flew near to the underground house, rubbing a fist to a drowsy eye. Curly came to meet him, lids droopy and arms hanging limply under him.

“Any luck?” Curly asked the younger boy through a yawn.

Tootles unsuccessfully attempted to stifle a yawn of his own, “Nope…”

Curly groaned, “We’ve been looking for days! Why doesn’t Peter get bored and give up like he always does?”

“Because I will NOT be beaten by a crusty ol’ codfish!”

The two turned to face their leader as he landed before them, an uncharacteristic scowl on his usually contentedly smug face.

“We can’t keep going like this, Peter!” Tootles pled, “We can’t find the witch’s lair no matter how fast we are! As soon as we’re near enough to where it is on the map, it jumps somewhere else…”

“We HAVE to find it, Tootles! We have to rescue the lady and send her back! I will NOT be outsmarted by the likes of HOOK!!”

“I’m sorry, Peter, but I have to put my foot down!” Wendy flew in from another direction and landed next to the boys, “The Lost Boys need rest, and so do you.”

“There’s no time to rest, Wendy! We have to act now! I think Hook’s hit a second wind… He wasn’t as tired today, and he actually put up a fight. I know that lady’s in the brig!” He paced as he spoke and continued with a pause before nodding, “We’ll have to make a full attack. Restrategize!”

“You’ve already attacked in every way possible, Peter!” Wendy argued, “They’ve got her too well guarded-”

“Stick to finding the witch’s lair, Wendy, and leave the war tactics to me.”

Wendy was about to make a scathing retort, before Michael piped in, tugging on his older sister’s skirt, “Why do we have to find an old witch’s lair anyway, Wendy? I don’t wanna meet a scary old witch.”

Her expression softened toward her younger brother, “We don’t have a choice, Michael. She has the only other magic dust that can get the lady home.”

“I’ll protect you from the witch, Michael; don’t you worry about that!” Peter nodded assuredly.

“Well…why’s it so hard to find? We have a map!”

“You didn’t hear?” Peter chuckled, “The witch lives in a rickety old house that has one big, tall bird foot! And when she wants to move, the foot jumps waaaaaay up into the sky, and lands somewhere else! But don’t worry, Michael! No witch can escape Peter Pan for too long.”

“Alright, all of you to bed! You need at least a few hours of sleep before any of you try again,” Wendy gave a pointed look to Peter, and he slumped in defeat.

“Alright Wendy…I guess we can spare a few hours for sleep. Not that I really need it…”

Her rosy lips curled into a smirk, “Of course not, Peter.”

~*~*~*~

Riley twitched in her sleep at the far away sound of the ship’s bell. The gentle tapping on the door that came after barely scratched the surface of her consciousness. The cacophonous rattle of a fist that threatened to splinter the entire wood frame, however, did the job so well she nearly fell from the bed. 

“Up and at ‘em, girly!”

She gave a discontented groan at Mullins’s voice and dragged herself out of bed to crack open the door.

His mustache bristled as he sneered down his nose at her, Jukes hunched nervously behind him.

“Cap’n says you wanna play pirate, and turns out, ye’ve got the first bit o’ the day with me.”

She squinted through drowsy eyes and happened to glance over his shoulder where her line of sight connected to Hook at the bow. His back faced her, hook resting in his hand behind him, and she knew he knew of the conversation that was currently taking place. 

“Son of a…” she ran a palm over her face then sighed in defeat with a whisper to herself to show no weakness, “Alright…be out in a second…”

She was cheered a bit when admiring her new clothing selection. The long vest she had been wearing when she arrived completed the “piratey” look of the boots, the only part of her previous outfit she had liked, and the top she had fashioned from a large scarf that had been buried near the bottom of the trunk. Even Smee’s spectacles made her look the part, and she quickly made an effort to restrain her hair from her face.

“This, girly, is a barnacle,” Mullins shoved the large, round crustacean at eye level, not five inches from her face.

“Hello, barnacle…” she replied with only a little uneasiness.

“Here’s yer scraper…” he handed her a broad metal blade, followed by what seemed to be an old piece of jerky, “…and here’s breakfast.” He tightened his fist around a rope that dangled from a pulley attached to a horizontal plank of wood, “Hop on aboard…”

She fixed him with a look and took a bite out of the jerky before stepping onto the plank. She had to steady herself as he lifted her over the rail and lowered her down the hull.

When Riley came face to face with the wall of barnacles that was the ship’s starboard hull, the intimidation was a bit more significant. Not wishing to waste time, she wedged her scraper under the base of a shell and pried. Not a budge… Rotating the tool in her hand, she attempted the opposite side with much the same result.

After struggling for a good two minutes, she began hacking at it with quick, downward jabs, finally breaking its hold.

A snort of harsh laughter brought her attention upwards to a gloating Mullins, “‘Bout a million more ta go!”

The corner of Hook’s mouth cracked into a subtle smirk as he barely picked up Riley’s muttered expletives followed by the continued hacking against the hull at the next barnacle. He internally scolded himself again at finding amusement in her struggle. Curiously enough, he had been finding himself hoping for her to prove herself a capable crewman. She had made a habit of surprising him, after all.

Hook tossed his cape aside as he turned to his cabin, “Do not grow accustomed to your slave-driving, Mullins; you resume your own duty in four bells.”

Mullins’s smile faltered, and he glared toward the Captain’s back, mumbling about how he should know a lot about slave-driving.

Hook turned to his desk as soon as he had pushed through the doors. It didn’t take him long to find the map of Neverland in the immaculately organized parchments. He carefully untied the strip of fine silk that bound it, unrolling the browned paper onto the cleared surface.

The chart was illustrated in ochre ink with the Captain’s own elegant penmanship. He couldn’t recall how long they had been on the isle before he had decided it fitting to properly chart the terrain.

Blue eyes scanned the area near Small Monday Island until he found the tiny arrow he had been searching for. At its point was a carefully rendered tree stump. As he made for the location with a fine, golden pin, he instead nearly stuck himself when a ghastly noise erupted from his drawer.

He bristled at the obnoxious cacophony, a snarl escaping him as he jerked the drawer open and grabbed the foreign instrument he had confiscated from Miss Blade.

With a closer observation point to the small device, he could now make out in the dim cabin that it’s front face glowed. He registered that there were a few different things transcribed there, but his eye instantly caught the bright orange box that read “STOP”. Deciding he would like very much for the contraption to do just that, he tapped the area with his finger as he had observed Riley do before.

But it didn’t stop. The loud chiming resumed, and he prodded at it with a finger, harder with each jab. He gripped the thing in both hand and hook, shaking with the hopes of jostling it into silence. Still, the merry tune persisted.

A strained growl rumbled through him, and he held his hook above the impudent little machine, cold steel itching to bring the noise to an abrupt and permanent end. With a gnashing of his teeth, he brought the hook to bay, but the tip just barely tapped a spot at the bottom of the contraption. The music stopped.

The rage deflated from him slowly, and after a brief pause, he quickly returned the cursed thing to its drawer, stuffing a small throw pillow in atop it for good measure.

What a horrid little gadget… He marveled at what Miss Blade could possibly want with it. Supposedly, it was meant to operate as a telephone, but he had been able to make out no entry for noise reception. Then again, it had certainly had no trouble in emitting a noise. Still, as far as he could gather, it was nothing but a vessel of frustration.

He shook his head in an attempt to refocus once again and went back to his map, placing the pin where he had intended to in the first place.

This would be the first place to search, excepting that he or his men were able to get their hands on one of Pan’s boys. If he could wring the right information out of anyone in Neverland, it would be that little gnome.  
~*~*~*~

By what Riley could figure going by the ships bells, it was eight o’clock, and she had barely made a dent in the jagged cluster that covered the starboard side. She was relieved, however, when it was time for her to shift duties, and she was stationed on deck with Mason.

“Well, uh…” the muscle-bound pirate scratched the back of his bald head, “I s’pose first things first is ta see if’n ye can lift that there mallet.”

Starkey, who was mending the rigging nearby, scoffed, “Really, Mason! You can’t expect a young lady to perform such hard labor on the first day.”

Riley’s eyes darted between the two men, and Mason shrugged, “Cap’n put ‘er with me…what else am I supposed to do with ‘er.”

“Have her hold the pegs, you lummox!” His cape fluttered as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Hey!” Riley placed a palm on the handle, “I can deadlift five of you, string bean…”

Starkey’s face was stark white at the remark, and it went whiter when she lifted the mallet onto her shoulder with little effort.

Mason crossed his arms with a smirk toward Starkey, then nodded, “Now, hammer in that peg there.”

A bit too eager, she held the mallet above the designated wood peg before raising it and sending it careening downward to loudly catch the edge of the plank next to the peg and send a few splinters flying.

There was a silence as all froze, and Riley shifted her guilty gaze once again between the two men.

“…I said I could lift; I never said my aim was any good…”

Mason slapped a hand to his forehead, and Starkey tittered with high pitched laughter.

“Well, I’ve gotta start somewhere!” She leaned down to retrieve the severed splinters of wood, wedging them back into place. “If only I had some Gorilla glue…”

Mason sighed, “Alright, so ye’ve got some practicin’ ta do. Guess this’ll be yer practice plank now…”

Riley hammered pegs for four more bells, improving her aim consistently by at least some percentage, then was transferred to Billy Jukes. She knew she liked this kid already. She figured she was probably right about in the middle between his age and Starkey’s, and being the self-professed “woman-child” she was, she felt she could relate to the quiet teenager. She of course realized that an adult thinking they can relate to a teen is a good way to seem very old.

“Well, I’ve already inspected Long Tom today… There may be somethin’ you could help with down in the forge.”

She nodded, “Whatever you’ve got for me…”

They ventured back into the bowels of the ship to a room littered with all manner of tools and machines, some well used but many that seemed only moments old. A handful weren’t recognizable to her at all. To the far side of the room from her was a stone opening, bits of charred coal covering the bottom, and as she grew close, she felt the heat coming from the kiln. Jukes must have already had it fired just this morning.

The boy went to a rack of very rough looking swords, some of which were still nothing more than metal bars. He picked one of these bars and held it out for Riley to take.

“We can work a little on different swords at different stages so you can get a sorta feel for the whole process.”

She took the bar with a nod, testing its substantial weight in her hands, “Cool…”

Jukes smiled a bit awkwardly as they looked at each other in a moment of silence.

Riley handed him back the metal rod, “You’re supposed to say, ‘no, it’s hot’.”

Jukes gave a confused look, “What?”

“Eh…” she shook her head, “Nevermind…” Strike one for sounding like a very uncool adult. “So, what do we do first?”

“Well…first we gotta fire up the forge.”

She watched as he took steps to do this. Riley doubted she would need to retain much of this information, as Jukes seemed very much a one man team when it came to the forge. But still, she watched closely with interest.

“So you made all this yourself?”

“Everything in this room, yeah,” he paused, “…save fer the anvil. Nicked that off a merchant ship near the Keys. It was brand new then,” he ran a hand over its surface, indicating the well worn metal scattered with scratches and nicks from being hit.

“This is some impressive stuff,” she squatted next to what looked like a large mechanical bird with a curved, metal pick for a beak. “You’ll have it made if you ever go out on your own; people would throw money at you for this.”

Jukes tried to hide a bashful grin, “Well… it’s kept me on the Cap’n’s good side most a’ the time,” he tossed some fresh coals into the kiln, “…if there exists such a thing… It helps bein’ the only man jack aboard who really knows how ta take care of our only remaining cannon, too.”

Riley’s eyes lit with interest, “You made Long Tom?”

He shrugged, “Not ‘made’ exactly. More like modified. Long Tom was one of my very first projects as a member of Cap’n Hook’s crew. He saw what I could do with ‘im and gave ‘im ta me ta take care of. Ya shoulda seen ‘im before; he was such a pathetic little scrap heap…”

Riley smiled. Jukes spoke about the ship’s cannon almost as if it were a beloved pet.  
And speaking of beloved pets, as soon as Jukes lit the kiln, there was an ear-gouging screech and a beating of feathered wings as Short Tom launched himself out of the burning kiln.

Jukes shrieked as the smoking bird flogged him with the full force of his rapidly beating wings, “SHORT TOM!! You dense, son of a drunken SEA DOG!! What in the name a’ the Flyin’ Dutchman were ya doin’ in there?!!”

“Squawk!! Abandon ship, dogs!! Squawk! FIRE in the hole!! Slubberdegulleons!! SON of a DRUNKEN SEADOG!! Squawk!! Son of a FLYIN’ DUTCHMAN!!”

Riley dodged Short Tom’s flight toward her head and turned to where the bird perched on the anvil and began preening his singed tail feathers. The macaw made several squeaks of pain and gave up trying to clean himself as it simply hurt too much.

“Poor guy…” Riley made to step toward the injured animal, and Jukes tensed before Short Tom made a raspy, warning hiss, flapping to the ground and disappearing under a table.

“Ooh, no, no, no, no!” Jukes’s hands flew to his head as he shook it with a look of terror, “The Cap’n’ll KILL me if anything happens to that bird ‘cause a’ me!”

Riley waved a calming hand, before stooping down to see the poor, frightened bird huddled against the wall, shakily making attempts to clean his feathers. As he became aware of her again the raspy hiss resumed.

Reaching a slow, gentle hand toward the bird, she clicked lightly with her tongue, “Come on, buddy…it’s ok…” She lowered herself onto her stomach to appear less threatening and inched closer. Short Tom, however, made slow steps away until he was in the corner.

Jukes shook his head, “No one but Cap’n can even touch that ornery ol’ bird. I’m so keelhauled!”

“Give him time,” Riley reassured quietly, “He’s just scarred. He doesn’t trust us yet,” she thought for a moment, “Is there anything on the ship you have to treat burns?”

“Cookson, I think, has some aloe vera stalks in the galley…” he paused with a shudder, “It’ll be put to better use here than when he makes a casserole outta’ it…”

Jukes left to retrieve the supplies they would need, and Riley continued talking softly to the terrified parrot. Finally, her arm had made it close enough for him to reach. She refused a reaction as he latched on with his beak, and he finally loosened his grip when she didn’t respond. With a wary stare of his one remaining eye, he tested gentler nips along her wrist. It was about two minutes before the bird finally stepped onto her offered arm.

“I got the aloe-“

Riley held a hand up to him as she slowly eased herself onto her feet, Short Tom perched, quiet but still shaking, on her wrist.

“…verra…” Jukes finished in bewilderment.

She righted herself and turned to face Jukes as she attempted to assess the damage, “Most of his feathers look alright, but there are a couple of big ones that are pretty burnt up. I honestly don’t know much about birds; I’m not sure what we should do.”

Jukes moved to see the damaged tail feathers, “I think Cap’n usually leaves ‘em be when he breaks a feather,” the boy’s stomach turned, “He’s sure ta notice…”

“Well, I guess we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it…” Jukes grit his teeth as Riley took the aloe and attempted to rub the severed end to Short Tom’s toasted tail. The bird jerked around to peck at the plant and her hand with a strained squawk, inching further down her arm.

“Alright, alright!” She sighed, “Maybe if I distract him, and you do it…” She handed the plant toward Jukes.

Jukes went visibly pale before slowly taking the stalk from her. With a deep inhale, Jukes reached in at as casual a speed as he could manage. Riley scratched Tom’s feathers and the bird clucked with delight, hardly noticing Jukes, until finally, the deed was done.

Jukes released the breath he had been holding with a relieved sigh.

“Good boy, Short Tom!” Riley rewarded, “That’s a good boy!” The parrot chirped softly at the welcomed head scratches, and Riley turned back to Jukes. “I’ll put him back on deck so he stays out of more trouble.” The boy nodded, color returning to his features, and she hurried through the door and made her way through the winding passageway up the ladder and to the deck.

The parrot chattered contentedly, hopping to the ground as she lowered him and waddling across the deck to fly into the rigging mere feet away.

She had already begun down the steps before turning to looked ahead of her, and she nearly yelped as she found herself face to very close face with Captain Hook.

“Miss Blade.” Both the tone of his greeting and the unconcealed mirth made it clear he had been waiting there for her to turn around, and he arched a brow, “Are you not meant to be in the forge with Mr. Jukes?”

“Just taking care of Short Tom!” she said a little too quickly, inching backwards, “He was-“

“Short Tom?” He scaled two steps at a time, and Riley stepped aside as there was hardly room for his massive frame alone on the narrow stairway, much less the two of them. Hook quickly spotted Short Tom in the rigging, then glanced back to her with a suspicious look before retrieving his pet.

“He was in the forge, so I brought him up here.”

Short Tom chattered and stepped onto his owner’s arm, who after giving a quick once over immediately turned a calculating eye to her.

“Hm…you know…I seem to recall my bird having a total of eight tail feathers,” he blocked all sunlight as he stood over her, taller than ever as she was still two steps below deck. He held the bird out, back facing her. “And there are a mere five and a half currently present on m’ precious polly’s back side…”

Riley gave a strained chuckle through a guilty grin, “Yeah, about that…the thing is, uh…well, we were in the forge, and I was just learning the ropes and what not…”

Hook’s accusing stare didn’t help the flustered red wash over her face as she hopelessly struggled to communicate.

“And we’re talking and whatever and…well he must’ve been taking a nap in the kiln, and when Jukes lit the coals-“

“JUKES?!”

Riley pressed her back against the bulkhead next to her as Hook thundered back down the stairs in a fury. After shaking off the surprise of his outburst, she found herself nearly jumping down the stairs and before she knew it, she had grabbed his cape with enough resistance to halt the massive pirate captain.

“Wait!”

He turned back to face her, and for a split second, she swore his normally blue eyes were red. But the anger dimmed from his features, and he looked down at her in puzzlement.

“Jukes didn’t know he was in there; neither of us did.”

His face hardened again, “Young Master Jukes knows far better than to leave the entrance to the forge opened at any time. And by Bluebeard’s blue beard, he shan’t forget again!”

He turned to resume his march to punish the boy, but he felt her hands around his hooked arm, firm at first but light as he turned to her again. He glanced down to where she touched his arm then back to her pleading face.

“Come on, I took care of it!” she begged, “Jukes even put some aloe on the burn! Short Tom’ll be fine. Let it go! For ONCE! Please!”

Hook found himself momentarily frozen, and he recognized the extremely rare tenderness welling in him in response to the girl’s pleas. 

“Go on…” she motioned her head toward the deck, “It’s a waste of your time anyway… Please?”

He felt a pang of something vaguely familiar at the intensity in her dark eyes that he wasn’t altogether sure he was comfortable with and deflated just a little, “Very well… But you tell Mr. Jukes this: if I find that door so much as unlocked at any time other than when he must pass through it, I’ll shove HIM in the kiln, and no amount of salve will relieve him.”

Her grip on his arm loosened, but the contact remained as she nodded. After a brief pause, Hook glanced down at where she touched him, and as soon as her line of sight followed his, she quickly broke the contact. “Ahem! I’ll, um…deliver the message…”

Hook was startled to feel the heat in his own face as he nodded, “See that you do.” He watched after her as she turned to leave before calling to her again. “Oh, and Miss Blade…”

She glanced over her shoulder.

“Tell Young Jukes that his time with you is nearly up. Cookson requires your assistance in the galley.”

The excess of color drained quickly from her face, “The galley?”

He nodded, “I quite look forward to the meal you will prepare as we will be eating it together tonight.”

She took a step to face him again, “You seem to have high hopes for me compared to the other tasks I’ve performed today. I wonder what that’s about…”

Hook smirked at the insinuation, “Rest assured, the bar for quality on this task is set quite low.” He turned with a dramatic flourish of his cape, “I trust you will have a firmer grasp than Cookson on which parts of a pheasant belong in a stew and which do not.”

Riley watched the Captain disappear onto the deck, a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips. Shaking her head with a sigh, she headed back to inform Jukes that he would not be dying today.

~*~*~*~

“Come on, Wendy! I think we’ve almost caught it!!”

Wendy Darling had had just about enough of searching for leaping witch houses. Peter had been too restless to sleep for more than an hour, and she had agreed to help him search while the Lost Boys got their rest.

“This is useless, Peter… We’ve been chasing this thing for hours and haven’t caught even a glimpse of it!”

“That’s pirate talk, Wendy,” Peter corkscrewed, flaunting his endless supply of energy, “Peter Pan never gives up!!” In the amount of time it had taken to say this, he had disappeared into the treetops.

Wendy scowled, rosy cheeks burning at the stubborn boy’s hardheadedness, and the heat in her face increased as Tink flitted past her nose, turning toward her mockingly mid-flight, “Just leave her, Peter! She can’t keep up.” And she disappeared into the foliage as well.  
Wendy gave up trailing after them any longer. Alighting onto a tree branch, she wiped the sweat from her brow with the end of her nightgown. Why couldn’t Peter just get bored and find another game like he always did? If it hadn’t been for Hook kidnapping that lady…”

Wendy stopped her train of thought and was suddenly ashamed of herself. They were doing this to rescue a prisoner. Though she doubted that was where Peter’s priorities lied, it was still necessary for her to go home. She imagined herself, held prisoner by Hook in the dark, dank brig, unable to return hone or to her friends. She had never spent more than a few hours down there, and that had been horrible enough. No. She had to keep trying. They had to find the dust that could get the lady back to her home.

She smoothed out her hair and readjusted the ring of flowers atop her head. Just as she made to take flight again, the eerie creaking of wood echoed and leaves rustled directly behind her. As she turned, she nearly stumbled from her perch.

The façade of the house that loomed over her had the appearance of a face, and the gaping door and windows whistled lightly with air passing into the void of it’s interior, almost as if breathing with a life of its own. The wood boards of its walls bowed in an unnatural fashion, creating curves and kinks that made no structural sense. And as the house craned closer through the trees, Wendy saw that at its foundation were a mass of dirty black feathers from which protruded a scaly, grey bird leg.

The girl was frozen in place until the hand on her shoulder shook her from her stupor.

“We found it, Wendy!” Peter said with a crow of delight, and as he and Tinkerbell disappeared into the darkness just beyond the door, she had no choice but to follow.


	10. Chapter 10

Wendy closed her eyes as she passed through the splintered door frame and into the sinister dwelling. A dizzying, disorienting swirling in her head made her stomach churn, and when she reopened her eyes, she could no longer tell which way was up. The moment of confusion caused her to wobble, and she flipped onto her back before her face could scrape across the wood floor.

As the world around her settled, she was met with the view of a cracked but ordinary ceiling. She rubbed the friction burn from her back as she sat up.

“Peter?!”

No answer.

The room was small and crowded with wooden furniture, knickknacks lining an unusual number of shelves up and down the walls. Piles of books and a few old iron pots were scattered across the floor. She wondered now how she had managed to crash land in this room without colliding with anything.

Just as this thought passed through her mind, she experienced a brand new feeling of disorientation. Everything around her was moving. As she focused on a cracked, wood rocking chair that had been about two feet from her foot, she saw now that she was almost touching it.

Wait. Had it not been much larger before? It looked as if it were meant for someone as small as Michael. Had it been that small a moment ago?

She soon found that the answer was no. A straining creak echoed through the room and the chair along with the entire room and everything in it shrank.

Wendy gasped as the walls began closing in, and with a yelp, she shot to her feet and bolted to a door to her left adjacent to the fireplace. Throwing it open, she rushed through, slamming it shut behind her.

She concentrated on breathing as her heart pounded in her ears. After a few calming inhales, she gave a relieved sigh before taking in the new room.

But it wasn’t a room at all. It was a forest. Had she gone back out the front door again? No. This wasn’t the Neverforest. The trees were much too big. And strange as well. All of the vegetation was oddly shaped and came in most unusual colors. Looking up, her breathe left her again as she could barely make out the canopy. The gargantuan tree trunks reached for what she could only assume were miles.

“Peter?!”

This time, a loud rustling in the distance answered her, and a flock of what must have been birds took flight from the trees that had been disturbed there.

Something massive began to emerge from the leaves, and Wendy cowered into some shrubs nearby.

The terrified girl had expected a creature somewhat like O’look to reveal itself from the brush ahead, but the last thing she expected was the giant, colorfully plated fish that swam in midair between the trees.

She felt the breathe leave her one last time, but as she made to inhale again, she felt her chest tighten at the lack of oxygen. She panicked, shuffling along the ground before scrambling to her feet and barreling back in the door she had come from.

“Wendy!”

The girl gasped in a gulp of air, hardly registering Peter’s greeting as the dizziness left her.

“Isn’t this just the most wonderful place?! How many rooms have you been to?! I was in one with a giant salamander! And before that, one where everyone had a goat head! And THEN-“

Peter flitted around her, hardly noticing the distress she was recovering from.

“And the one with all the bugs!” Tink shuddered, tiny hands rubbing up and down her arms, “Centipedes and spiders and roaches! Eyuck!!”

“Have you found the magic dust?” Wendy finally interjected when she found the ability to speak.

Peter paused with a perplexed frown, “Magic dust?”

Tink’s disgust turned to a scowl, “The magic dust we’ve been looking for for days, you silly ass!!”

Wendy shook her head, “Now you forget…”

~*~*~

“Uuum, aren’t ya gonna rinse off that radish?”

Cookson scrunched his pudgy face, “Why doing zat? Zhou loosing all nutrients!”

Riley scoffed tossing aside a potato peel, “You mean dirt?”

The sea chef wrinkled beady eyes at the girl, “Leesten! Cookson ees chef! Blade lady ees to be learning from Cookson!” He pointed an assertive finger toward Riley’s face.

She pointed a finger right back, “Do you know what soil is made up of?”

“Ees earth! All natural! Ees good for zhou!”

“Good for contracting a parasite…” she mumbled, tossing aside another peel.

Cookson finally threw up his hands, tossing the ladle he held to her, which she fumbled to catch, “Fine! Zhou sink zhou great cook?! Zhou fixing supper tonight!” The irate chef sat down on a barrel that creaked under his weight, crossing his arms and tapping a pudgy finger on his arm expectantly.

She froze, lowering her half peeled potato, “Uh-“

“Go ahead! Zhou teach Cookson how to cook!” He set a pot on the counter in front of her, “Zhou ees SO much better!”

With a sigh and a shrug, she scanned the counters to weigh her options. There were the radishes Cookson had been about to toss into the stewpot. But hell if she had ever cooked radishes. It was the same story with many of the other vegetables. There was bread; that would come in handy. And a pile of potatoes, that would be easy. If only there was some kind of cheese, but if Cookson had made it, there was no working with it.

“Vas ees wrong, girly? Zhou awfully quiet now.”

“Alright!” she growled, twirling to glare toward the chef. “Look! I might not be Gordon Ramsey, but I know not to eat dirt…”

Cookson’s face scrunched into a pout, and his face was now red, making him look quite appropriately like an heirloom tomato. He finally exhaled, “Fine! Captain wants jou to cook? We do your way.”

Riley smiles with an upward tilt of her head, and Cookson raised a hand, “ONCE!”

“Deal,” she reached for the man’s hand, and they shook on it, “I’m hoping it’ll only be once anyway. I’d rather be out in the blistering heat than cooped up here all day.

Cookson finally smiled, “Hey! Being cooped up all day is reason Cookson stays looking so young! Zat and plenty of my peekled ox snout!”

She masked her cringe with pursed lips, “So…you got cheese?”

~*~*~*~

The covered tray of food rattled as Riley attempted to balance it between her hand and hip to knock on the Captain’s door. She winced at the soreness in her back but quickly stifled it. As far as Hook would know, she had gotten through the day with a breeze. Let him try and underestimate her again...

The door opened, and the tray rattled with her start before she reached with her free hand to steady the glassware.

Hook loomed above her, a not at all contented strain across his features.

“Since when do you get up to answer the door?”

His usually tidy curls hung in loose ringlets around his face and shoulders, and with wide eyes, he snatched the tray from her, placing it onto the table with a rattle.

“Ok! Fine! You’re hungry!” She raised her hands defensively, “You’re usually just a LITTLE more diplomatic about things than this.”

He turned toward her, “No-“

A familiar sound erupted from Hook’s desk, and his hands shot to cover his ears with a snarl. He huffed before straightening himself and pointing accusingly toward the sound.

“THAT!”

Riley eyed the desk, then shifted between it and the Captain before stifling a sarcastic snort of laughter.

“Make. It. Stop…”

“Aw!” She pouted with a patronizing lilt in her voice, “You don’t like 8-bit Safety Dance?”

The incensed glare he fixed her with only amused her further, and she pulled a drawer open to find only an array of navigation implements.

Hook growled, “Next drawer!”

“Alright! …gawd…”

Retrieving the phone, she made a quick motion of pressing the button and tapping the screen.

The torment left his face to be replaced by confusion. “How did you do that?!” He was next to her in two strides, and he made to swipe the device from her. He was startled when she smacked the back of his hand.

“Excuse you!”

Rage flared again at the abrupt reprimand, but he chose to redirect it toward the real enemy of the situation. “In all my days have I never encountered a more vexing instrument than THAT!” he jabbed a condemning finger at the phone, “Never has anything so relentlessly grating on the senses ever had the gall to exist in my vicinity. I could scoop the eardrums from my own head with my hook! I could drive a stake through my cerebral cortex!”

Riley’s eyes bulged with concern, “Are you gonna be ok?”

Hook took in a long breath, and as he was about to release it the damned contraption buzzed with the accompaniment of a brand new jingle.

“A text!” She whirled around on the ball of her foot to answer, and a bristling, snarling Hook made a motion as if to crush the little machine between both flesh and metal appendages.

As the sound stopped again and the Captain’s ire recessed once more, he realized that Riley was studying the hell machine rather intently. Glancing over her shoulder with disgust contorting his face, the small box now displayed a message.

‘hey riles! U ok?? Were about to put the tents up an build a fire..’

“This must be from a few days ago, but…” she stopped as she noticed the time. With a couple flicks the screen displayed the date: Friday, May 10. The same day she had left.

“What a poor grasp of the King’s tongue…”

Riley didn’t seem to hear him as she stood puzzling in frustration. “Something’s gotta be screwing with the signal…”

She performed a series of flicks along the screen, all changing the display before the screen went blank, and Hook’s face tensed with returned frustration. “HOW are you doing that?!”

She finally met his gaze at the demanded question and clicking the power button and swiping the phone unlocked very deliberately with her finger.

“I tried that numerous times!” He reached over to tap roughly at the screen, “It does! Nothing!”

Hook was taken aback when she took his wrist in a surprisingly firm grip and waved it.

“There’s your problem,” and before his shock at the contact had worn off, she had tugged his glove off by the index finger and held the device closer.

Hook mentally staved off the uncharacteristic fluster that he sensed mysteriously creeping to the surface of his skin and pressed his finger firmly against the smooth, glass surface.

“You don’t have to put a dent in it...”

He moved his finger across the glass and marveled as the display moved with it, “How does this work?”

“It basically senses your finger through an electrical charge.”

He experimented with dragging his finger in another direction, and the screen changed from a colorful display of aligned symbols to a darker one with a whole new series of icons. “I’ve seen pictures move here in Neverland,” he shook his head, “But how could one move without magic?”

Riley smiled as his irritation had seemed to completely melt into curiosity, “The screen is made up of hundreds of tiny lights that come together to form pictures. They’re called pixels.”

Hook was enthralled with the tiny device he had moments ago sought to destroy, “This is… bizarre…”

Riley shrugged, “I guess it is…” 

The Captain continued prodding at the display, incidentally opening the camera app. It took him a moment to register that he was looking at the floor below him through the phone, and before he could question it, Riley raised the device in front of them, flicking a thumb across the screen.

“Selfie!”

He gave a sideways glance, “Pardon?” 

With a mechanical sound, the screen flashed white, and Hook was met with his own image wearing a rather unflattering expression.

The color drain from his face, “What by the sword of Saint George is that?”

“That’s you!” Riley pulled away with a snicker just as he made to swipe the phone away again.

~*~*~*~

After a playful scuffle over the integrity of his likeness as well as whether it could be destroyed forever or not, the two finally turned to the meal Riley had prepared.

She was relieved as Hook approved of the Neverbird Alfredo she had managed to pull together.

“This is most certainly a welcome change from the swill my men and I are used to . I wouldn’t suppose we might be obliged to experience more of your culinary talents?”

Riley shook her head, “Sadly, that and beef stew are the only recipes I know.”

Hook arched an eyebrow with a subtle shrug, “That is, of course, as opposed to Cookson, who knows none. You said you wished to be a part of the crew… I would be more than ecstatic to displace Cookson.”

“Nah, I can’t replace Cookson. I mean...” she shook her head, fumbling with her hands, “His name’s “Cookson”. He’s the cook. “Chef Blade” sounds like a...cannibalistic serial killer.”

“Ha!” The Captain laughed dryly, raising an iron claw, “Mr. Cookson is as ill matched with his own surname as I am well matched with my own.”

Riley blew a stray hair from her face with a sigh and muttered, “Knew I shoulda made something nasty…”

Hook’s brow furrowed, “I was greatly lead to believe that you wanted to be a part of the crew, Miss Blade.”

“If I wanted to spend all day in a hot, smelly kitchen, I’d get a job at Denny’s. I was really hoping for something a bit more…piratey.”

“A pirate does not choose a pirate’s duty,” Hook asserted, “A pirate does what a pirate is good at.”

Riley scoffed, “You can’t tell me out of all the things I did today, cooking was what I was best at. I know two recipes!”

“But you’re better at it than the COOK,” he stated matter of factly.

“So are you, probably! It’s not an amazing feat...”

“I’m certain I am, but I can’t Captain a ship AND cook, now can I?”

She shrugged leaning back in her chair, “You’d be surprised what one can cram into a day.”

Hook fixed her with an exasperated look and tossed his napkin to the table.

“Alright! Fine!” she held up her hands in defeat, realizing she WAS being a bit ungrateful, and that she would enjoy eating less of Cookson’s food as well, “I’ll HELP Cookson cook...at dinner time, but that’s it. That’s assuming he let’s me...”

Hook’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, “Cookson will do as I say, or you’ll be boiling him in tomorrow’s stew.”

“Uh...no I won’t... Don’t forget this isn’t a permanent arrangement.” Her eyes widened and she raised a finger, going to retrieve something from her pocket, “And on that note, I’ve made a finalized list of the agreements we briefly discussed yesterday.”

“Finalized?” He reached to receive the paper she had handed him, “I was under the impression it was all quite final last night.”

“I thought of more things,” Riley shrugged, “And we never shook on it.”

“So we did not,” Hook cocked his head with an amused chuckle, “Let us hear your annotated version, then.”

~*~*~*~

The children had further explored a number of other rooms in the expansive inner workings of the witch’s shack before it had begun to really wear on Wendy and Tinkerbell. Wendy had counted twenty one separate rooms, all of which they had ended up in multiple times and had been led back to the tiny parlor the most, each time experiencing a separate strange occurrence inside. This time, the entire room was upside down so that the walked on the ceiling.

Tink buzzed near Peter’s ear, “This is getting repetitive, Peter… We need to find that dust before the old witch decides to make a three course meal of us.”

Peter’s laughter died down as he realized that they had indeed been in this similar room more times than he could remember. With a sigh, he nodded his agreement, “I suppose you’re right, Tink…” he rose a foot from the ground, hand on his chin, “I have a distinct feeling that the magic dust we’re looking for is somewhere in this room!”

No sooner had the words passed Peter’s lips before a croaking, melodically eerie laugh filled the room from every side.

“You’ve been so very much fun, my little myshey…”

Wendy screamed as she looked up at the corner of the disorienting room to see a very hunched, very old lady standing over them on what should have been the floor. She was so still she seemed to have almost hidden herself in plain sight.

“You will however forgive Auntie Baba for being so famished? Come down from there kroshkas, and perhaps we may dine together.”

“Peter…” Wendy’s voice trembled.

“Where’s the magic dust, witch?!” Peter hovered over her, now upside down in relation to Wendy as well.

Her laughter sounded like the creaking of the world’s rustiest door-hinge, and she grinned to reveal five long, gnarled teeth, “Dust? Hm. Magic dust…” she shook her lumpy head, “No magic dust here, my sweet rutabaga.”

Peter swirled in the air with a chortle, “Just like an evil, old hag to lie through her crooked teeth!” and drawing his dagger, he charged the witch.

But just as it seemed apparent that he had struck her, he reeled from the collision of his head with the wall. Before he had even recovered, he heard Wendy’s shriek of terror.

The girl momentarily froze in place as the hag’s hideous face appeared not an inch in front of her own, still upside down but at eye level with her. And when she was finally able to stumble backwards, she found that the witch’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, and her head slowly rotated to affix itself upright on her shoulders again with a sickening crunch.

Peter darted between them and held the tip of his dagger to the old hag’s bulbous nose, “You keep AWAY from her, CREATURE!!”

“Ohh…poor salki! This “creature” has a name, you know…”

Tinkerbell, who had been staying well out of the way through the ordeal, leered at the old woman with a fearful hatred, “We know your name TOO well, BABA YAGA!” She spat the name like a poison.

The stout woman took her chaotically patched skirts in two gaunt hands and curtsied, “Aah! A fairy as well! My name probably conjures many a vivid image for your kind, doesn’t it, my scrumptious dumpling?”

A shudder made its way up Tink’s tiny spine as she shrunk back green eyes still leering. Peter, however, stood his ground.

“Baba Yaga, is it?” the boy mocked, “A nasty name for a nasty old crone!” He glanced briefly about the room before focusing electric blue eyes on the old woman, “It’s in this room, isn’t it?”

“You are being so very vague, dear boy,” she chuckled that creaky chuckle again baring those jagged teeth, “I possess many treasures in this room.” Her wrinkled eyes brightened, “Perhaps you might find a few before we dine tonight!”

Peter needed no further invitation, “We plan to do just that! Quick, Wendy! Tink! Find that dust!!”

The three scattered about the room, ripping doors and drawers open and tossing contents to the floor and ceiling, neither of which seeming to act as either appropriate surface anymore.

Wendy threw open a closet only to find Baba Yaga now there, looming just above her with a wild grin, “Hello, kroshka!”

The girl screamed, slamming the closet shut and running to check the other side of the room.

Tink tugged open a small cupboard above the counter to find several vials of unknown liquids and one with a distinct purple eye that blinked blearily at her.

“Eyuck!!” She shoved the cupboard closed again as hard as she could.

Peter tugged open a drawer, and nearly fell backward as Baba Yaga was there again, her body twisted and compressed to fit inside the tiny compartment. She rose from the small space, looming over Peter as she jerkily de-contorted herself. As Peter readied his dagger, he backed into a spot on the wall that was bare stone, and as he struck it, a single block moved.

“Atahtah! Best you not play there, mysh’…”

Peter didn’t register the change in tone of her voice as he turned to investigate the loose stone, and with a small amount of pressure, it released itself from the wall. Peering inside the narrow opening, he spotted something pitch black, but gleaming in flickering blues and purples.

“You keep away from that, boy!!” Baba Yaga’s cry became more panicked, but Peter gave no heed.

As if entranced, the youth reached in and plucked a smooth, impossibly black gemstone from the opening in the wall. Wide eyes reflected the pulsing stone in wonderment.

Wendy and Tink looked on in both fascination and uneasiness. “Peter?” Wendy’s voice shook, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. The presence of the witch had quickly left her mind at the appearance of this eerily void-like object, and it disturbed her even more.

“Get away from there!!” the witch finally bellowed in a roar that sent Peter careening toward the adjacent wall and dropping the stone to the floor, and an explosion of black erupted in all directions.

Wendy and Tinkerbell covered their eyes to shield themselves from the shards, but they never came. The once smooth stone was now fractured in several craggy pieces, but remained intact.

“No…” Baba Yaga’s voice was panicked as she rapidly shook her head, “Chto vy nadelali?”

Slowly at first, the stone almost seemed to begin melting. A bubbling, sticky substance dripped from the cracks, and a glistening pool of tar quickly formed beneath it. With a suddenness that nearly took even Peter by surprise, the boiling tar’s path rerouted directly toward the boy, who with a yelp, rose several feet into the air.

Wendy and Tink echoed each other with a gasp, both nearly jumping to the air as well. The tar stopped it’s trajectory below Peter’s feet, and with sputters and hisses, a new object began to take shape from the muck.

A glass bottle arose from the ground beneath him, and as if it’s purpose was fulfilled, the tar seeped into the floorboards and was gone quicker than it had appeared.

“It’s the dust!” Tink pointed to the glass bottle, “The dust that will get that human lady home!! Get it, Peter!!”

Before Baba Yaga could snap out of her stupor, Peter had swooped to retrieve not only the bottle but also the fractured stone.

“I’ll bet this is the source of your powers, isn’t it, witch?!”

“Malen’kiy svoloch…” she raised a knotted hand to send him colliding with the wall a second time, but the blast ricocheted off of Peter and sent the witch backward instead.

“Come on!!” Peter cried, “We’ve got what we came for! Let’s go!!”

The three flew for the front door and were nearly spat from the hut to skid across the forest floor before scrambling to the air.

Peter crowed, performing several acrobatic aerial maneuvers in triumph, “I did it! I told you I’d do it, and I did it.”

Wendy and Tink exchanged uneasy glances.

“AND I confiscated Baba Yaga’s source of power! Oh! The cleverness of me!”

Wendy shook her head as she alighted upon a branch, “Peter, I think we should get rid of that thing.”

“Get RID of it?! But, Wendy, this is our trophy! We earned it! And it gave us the dust we needed!”

The girl shuddered, “I don’t like it. It feels…wrong. Like it’s wrong to even look at it. I don’t want to be near it.”

“Uh- Tink! Tell her,” he turned toward the pixie, who was picking twigs from her hat, “Tell Wendy we should keep it.”

Tinkerbell cringed at being put on the spot, fingers fumbling nervously with her dress, “Peter, I…I really hate to say it, but I think Wendy’s right.”

“What?!” Peter planted his fists at his sides.

“Whatever that stone is is made from the darkest of magic! No good will come of it.”

“No good?” Peter shook the bottle in her direction.

“Surely you aren’t THAT much if a silly ass, Peter!” Tink fluttered to the boy’s face, “Whatever possesses that stone wants you to trust it. Of course it would give you something you wanted…”

Peter deflated, “So what? We toss it into the ocean? What if someone else gets ahold of it? Someone like Hook?”

“That’s not what I’m saying… We should take it to Great Big Little Panther first thing in the morning.”

Wendy nodded, “I think that’s a great idea.”

Peter sighed, then gave a nod, “I suppose you’re right,” his face brightened, “Besides, all that matters is that we beat both Baba Yaga AND Hook today. I can’t wait to tell ol’ Codfish first thing tomorrow!”

“The stone first, Peter,” Wendy reminded, “Then you can gloat.”

“Alright! Alright!” Peter’s raised his hands, “The stone first! THEN I’ll gloat!”

The children and fairy took to the skies again. Not five seconds after they had left, a black substance hissed to the surface from beneath the tree they had just flown from. The bark blackened and peeled from the roots and up the trunk. Leaves shriveled and dropped from the branches, and in seconds, the tree was dead.

The black sludge crept along the forest floor, killing off all vegetation in its direct path and slowly but surely gaining momentum. An unfortunate toad found itself caught in the dark substance’s path, and its skin turned black before it was disintegrated to ash. It traveled quicker and quicker until it reached the beach, blackening the sand before entering the ocean. As soon as it reached the water, it spread in all directions, expanding far beyond the boundaries of Neverland.

 

Russian phrases:  
myshey/mysh’ - mice/mouse  
kroshka - bread crumb OR babe  
salki - lambs  
Chto vy nadelali? - What have you done?  
malen’kiy svoloch - little bastard


End file.
